


Hunted

by marvelous_times



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Compound, Blood and Injury, Fights, Gen, Injury, Major Character Injury, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Whump, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), please read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelous_times/pseuds/marvelous_times
Summary: Peter Parker is trying to stay low to the ground, help the little guy, stuff like that... but part of him regrets not accepting Mr. Stark's offer to join the Avengers. Things get worse for Peter when a villain decides that the webbed hero will be his next prey... and will stop at nothing to get his head mounted on a wall.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 42
Kudos: 181





	1. Stay Low to the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,  
> This is my first fanfic that I'm posting on AO3. I'm trying to stay on the same page as the MCU movies, while also incorporating characters and elements from the Spider-Man comics. I hope anybody who reads this enjoys it!I'd love to hear comments and reactions! 
> 
> *I own none of the characters- you can thank Marvel for them!

“Peter?”

“... Mr. Parker, are you still with us?”

Unaware of his teacher’s inquiries, Peter Parker remained asleep, his head propped up on his arm, elbow lodged in the middle of his open AP US History textbook. Sitting next to him was his best friend Ned Leeds, who was, unfortunately, very aware of their teacher’s increasingly impatient inquiries. 

Ned discreetly attempted to wake his best friend up by whispering, nudging him with his foot, and breathing on him (in hopes that his garlic breath would be enough to free the hero from his slumber), but all attempts were unsuccessful. As Mr. Dell began to make his way towards Peter’s desk, Ned decided that it was time to resort to more drastic measures. Silently apologizing to Peter, Ned took a deep breath and kicked Peter as hard as he could in the shins. Alarmed, Peter jolted awake, shot up, and turned to Ned.

“Hey, what the heck, man?” Peter demanded.

Ned, staying silent, widened his eyes and slowly shook his head. Confused, Peter took in his surroundings and realized that he was in history class. Blushing, he sat back down amid a wave of muffled giggles, only to look up and see a disapproving Mr. Dell stalking towards Peter’s seat. 

“What was that, Mr. Parker?”

_Shit._

Peter glanced towards Ned, who silently mouthed “Cuban Missile Crisis.” Nodding in understanding, Peter glanced at the board and turned to his glowering history teacher.

“Well,” Peter began hesitantly, “I was just, uh, shocked at how close the, uh, US and the Soviet Union came to an all-out nuclear war. It must have been terrible to spend years living in fear of a nuclear attack.

“In fact,” Peter continued, his voice brightening as he saw Mr. Dell nodding in interest, “it might be similar to how some of us feel today. Look at New York, for example- any given day, you could be walking home from school and witness or even get caught in a fight between some hero and some super-powered villain.”

Mr. Dell held up his hand to pause Peter. “Mr. Parker,” he began, “are you saying that our heroes are a threat to New York? Are they a source of fear? Are they nuclear weapons, just waiting to go off?”

“No, of course not!” Peter declared. He was horrified that he had even begun to suggest that. “Those villains are going to be here whether we have the heroes or not. We NEED heroes to keep us safe. Think of New York’s heroes- Dr. Strange, Daredevil, Iron Man-”

“Spider-Man,” Ned interjected.

“- yeah, and, uh, Spider-Man,” Peter concluded. “They risk their lives every day to keep us safe. You know what, maybe they are nuclear weapons. But we couldn't survive without them. If the US didn’t have nuclear weapons and the Soviet Union did, what would have stopped the Soviets from nuking us into oblivion? However,” he added hurriedly, “I don’t believe that we should consider our heroes weapons. They’re all living beings who are capable of making their own choices. We should consider ourselves lucky that we have them keeping us safe.”

An awkward silence took place after Peter finished. Mr. Dell looked slightly impressed, which would hopefully be enough to keep Peter out of detention for sleeping in class again. 

“Well, thank you for your thoughts, Mr. Parker.” Mr. Dell turned away and continued the lesson. Peter mouthed a silent “THANK YOU” to Ned, who gave him a subtle thumbs-up. 

As soon as the bell rang, Peter walked to his locker, Ned on his heels. 

“Thanks, dude,” said Peter.

Ned shrugged. “Sorry I had to kick you so hard-”

“It’s fine,” Peter reassured him. “Enhanced healing, remember? Won’t even bruise.” 

Ned grinned. “You got super lucky, man. I thought Mr. Dell was going to give you another detention for sure.”

“Same,” agreed Peter. “May would’ve killed me once she found out- she’s already convinced I’m not sleeping enough because of the, uh-” he glanced around the crowded hallway, “Stark internship.” 

“How’s that going, anyway?” Ned asked. “In need of a, uh, guy in the chair anytime soon?”

Peter hesitated. “Nah, I’m good for now. Ever since I turned down Mr. Stark’s offer I’ve just been patrolling around Queens, helping the little guy, if you know what I mean."

Ned shook his head. “I still can’t believe that you turned down the opportunity to be a real Avenger. Like, seriously, I think that Mr. Stark offering that to you is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Peter raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I mean, the coolest thing that’s ever happened to you. Not me. Although since I’m you’re guy in the chair, it’s also the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Peter shrugged. “Fair enough. Hey, wanna come over for a bit after school? May will be working until late, and we can spend a couple of hours working on the robotics assignment before I go out on patrol.”

“Sounds great!” replied Ned enthusiastically. “I’ll bring pizza.” 

............

Thousands of miles away, an enormous man spent hours watching and analyzing videos of a costumed hero defeating muggers, crooks, and villains. His eyes narrowed as he watched the colorful figure swing between buildings, catch flying cars out of the air, and effortlessly scale buildings. The man stood up and entered a different room, where the walls were filled with animal heads and skins. The man folded his muscular arms, his impressive silhouette seeming to fill the room. 

A slender woman entered the room and joined the man, her slim figure contrasting his massive one. The man turned to her and she adjusted his lion fur coat, her hands tracing his enormous chest. He pulled her closer, stroking her hair as she clung to him. After a moment of this, they broke apart and she looked up at him.

“Preparing for a hunt?” Her voice purred, smooth as a well-oiled machine.

The man fingered the knife hanging from his belt. “Yes, Sasha, I am. And this will be the greatest hunt I will ever participate in.”

She looked at him curiously. “What is the beast which you hunt?”

The man looked at her, walked a few paces, and scooped a small creature off of the ground. The arachnid struggled to escape from his hand, but Kraven held it by one leg as he tore off the others. “My dear,” he said, “I hunt the Spider.”

............

Two hours, three pizzas, and one robotics assignment later, Peter was swinging through the streets of Queens. It was a fairly uneventful night- he stopped a few robberies, saved a woman from being run over by a drunk driver, and saved a few people from muggers. He decided to call it a day half an hour after midnight, and he sat on the edge of an apartment to give his nightly report to Happy. 

“This is the voicemail for... Happy Hogan. Please leave a message after the beep.”

“Hey, Happy, it’s Peter. Parker. Tonight was pretty chill, just stopped a few robberies and muggings and saved a woman from being hit by a car. Hope you’re, uh, doing well!”

Peter ended the call and stared at his phone. He wondered what he would be doing right now had he accepted Mr. Stark’s invitation to become an Avenger. An _Avenger_. He could’ve been a freaking Avenger.

Peter shook his head. “Stop,” he thought to himself. “Remember last time you tried to tackle an Avengers-level threat? You almost died when you had a freaking _building_ dropped on you.” He paused. He’d never told anyone about what happened when he fought the Vulture, not even Ned or Karen. “And the time before that,” he continued in his head, “you completely screwed up and almost killed a ferry full of people. So it’s better that you, I mean, I, stay low to the ground. Help with the things I know I won’t mess up.”

He sat there in silence for about five minutes, still and silent, thinking about responsibility and consequences and heavy stuff like that until Karen broke the silence. 

**“Peter,”** she said, **“is something wrong? You have been sitting in the same position for over 10 minutes. Should I contact Mr. Stark?”**

“Wha- no, nothing’s wrong, Karen. Seriously. I’m just thinking.”

**“About what?”**

“Nothing important, Karen. Just, uh, chemistry.”

**“Peter, you know that I am programmed to tell when you are lying.”**

“Karen, I’m fine.” Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m going to head back home.”

**“That’s extremely advisable, as your curfew started half an hour ago.”**

“Seriously, Karen?”

**“I am always serious, Peter.”**  
“Am I the only one of us who remembers that prank you wanted me to pull on Happy?”

**“It wasn’t a prank. I was just seriously suggesting that you drew a mustache on his face and stuffed rabbit dung into his shoes while he was sleeping.”**

“How would I even get rabbit sh- um, rabbit dung?”

**“I’m sure you’d find a way,”** Karen replied. 

Peter shook his head and continued to swing towards his apartment. He was only a few blocks away when he felt a warning run through his head, the intensity jolting him into action. In the nick of time, Peter twisted midair and dodged the knife that flew past him, blade flashing in the faint moonlight.

_What the-_

“Karen, what the heck was that?”

**“That was a knife, Peter.”**

“I figured that part out myself, thanks. Who threw it? Where did it come from?”

Karen was silent for a moment before replying. **“There appears to be a man sitting on the street in the spot where the knife came from. I’m doing a facial recognition scan right now.”**

Peter swung to a roof and crept closer to the man, pressed low against the roof in case of a second attack. The man was just... standing in the middle of the street, shirtless. He wore thick pants and a dark belt was hanging around his waist. 

“Karen? Got an update yet?”

**“Yes, Peter,”** the AI responded. **“It seems his name is Torchinovich Stepanovich. Records say he died in jail in Volgograd, Russia three days ago.”**

“Doesn’t seem very dead to me,” commented Peter. “What are his abilities? Tech? Powers?”

**“It seems he lacks superhuman powers, but is very well trained in hand-to-hand combat and was known for his impressive skills with knives, spears, and javelins.”**

“Ok, then... I’m going to engage.”

Peter swung down and landed lightly in front of Stepanovich, who, in turn, solemnly stared at the costumed figure.

“Hello there!” said Peter cheerfully. “Aren’t you cold? No? It’s the middle of January, and I’m freezing my webbed butt off. Not that this spandex provides much comfort. But hey, it’s better than shirtless! Not that I would ever go around shirtless, ‘cause that’s a bit strange. Not that I’m calling you strange! You pull it off pretty well. So, um, I was wondering what that knife was for. Really, if you want to talk you just have to call my name!”

Peter waited for a moment as the man stood there, watching him silently. 

“Okaaaaay then... it was nice meeting y-”

The other man drew a knife and sent it flying toward Peter so quickly that he could barely process it. Peter flipped out of the way and webbed the man’s hands.

“Hey, man, that was NOT NICE. I was just trying to have a friendly conversation!”

The man laughed, an unsettling, throaty noise. He looked up at the teenager who was perched on the wall. 

“The hunt begins.”

“Woah, he speaks!” exclaimed Spider-Man as he vaulted down beside Stepanovich. “Wait... what did you say? The hunt? Are you trying to hunt me? You’re not doing a very good job, buddy.”

Stepanovich laughed again, gave Peter a smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. “I’m just your warm-up, Spider.”

With that, the man attacked. He spun and kicked at Peter, who had to leap to dodge the hit. Stepanovich brought his webbed hands down onto his knife, splitting the webbing and allowing his hands to be free. He sent a flurry of punches towards Peter, which Peter frantically dodged. This man was _much_ faster than he expected. 

Peter vaulted himself over Stepanovich and turned to face him. “Records say that you’re dead,” Peter commented. “Why is that?”

Stepanovich sent him another evil smile. “I am dead, Spider. After rotting in jail for years, the Hunter brought me here to fight you. And after I lose, I die.”

Peter paused. “Woah, man. Why exactly do you have to die?”

“It’s my purpose,” replied Stepanovich. Taking advantage of Spider-Man’s shock, Stepanovich sent three knives flying towards the costumed hero. Spider-Man managed to dodge the first two but the third knife caught him on his right side. Spider-Man grunted in pain, then dodged as Stepanovich sent a fourth knife, but landed awkwardly and was unable to dodge as Stepanovich hit him in the gut twice. Peter frantically webbed Stepanovich’s feet to the ground then jumped up and kicked him in the face. Stepanovich fell and Peter sent webbing towards the man, gluing him to the ground.

The man turned to the teenager standing in front of him and grinned. “Enjoy the hunt.” With that, Stepanovich looked up at Peter and, with no emotion in his face, bit something in his mouth that echoed in Peter’s ears. 

“No!” Peter cried as he realized what happened, but could only watch, helpless, as the man died in front of his eyes. Shuddering and twitching, Stepanovich stopped moving after a few moments, foam dripping from his mouth. 

“No, no, no- Karen, is there anything-”

**“No, Peter,”** replied his calm AI. **“Cyanide is a fast-acting poison, and he is already dead.”**

Peter staggered back, shocked, staring at the form of the dead man in front of him.

“K-Karen?” said Peter, “can you please call Mr. Stark, o-or Happy or someone. I- I don’t know what to do.”

**“I am calling Mr. Stark right now. Would you like me to inform him of your injuries?”**

“Wha- No, Karen! J-just… just tell him something happened and I don’t know what to do.”

**“Ok. Calling Tony Stark.”**

“Hey, Underoos, you alright? What’s going on?” Tony asked worriedly. 

“M-mr. Stark, I didn’t know what to do, and I was fighting this guy, and he said he’d die if I lost, but I didn’t take him seriously, and then I caught him and he had like a cyanide tooth, and then he started shaking and he d-”

“Woah, kid, take it easy,” interrupted Tony. “Calm down. Are you ok?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” answered Peter.

“Are you actually fine? Or are you fine as in ‘Mr.-Stark-I-only-got-shot-once’ fine?” Tony’s stern voice failed to mask his worry.

“No, really, I’m good- well, I’m ok but I just- there was this guy a-and-”

“FRI, show me his vitals.”

“Heart rate 180 bpm, blood pressure 140/90. He has a fairly deep laceration along his right side, two fractured ribs, and several contusions along his torso. Medical attention is suggested soon to prevent infection.”

Tony sighed. “Kid, I hate that this is ‘fine’ for you.”

“It’s nothing I can’t deal with on my own, Mr. Stark.”

“Well, just… wait there. And stay on guard; there could be someone else waiting to attack”

“I’m not in danger, Mr. Stark. I’d be able to sense it.”

Tony could tell that the kid was starting to calm down as the panic in his voice began to lessen. “Ok, kid, just find a building or something and wait there. I’ll be there soon, in a couple of minutes. You’re lucky I was so close, instead of at the Compound or in another country.”

“Y-yeah.”

They both were silent for a moment as Peter crept up to the roof of an apartment nearby and Tony sped towards Peter’s location. Tony was about to figure out something to say when Peter piped up.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um, have a question.”

“That’s a surprise.”

Tony’s comment was followed by a beat of silence. “Spill, kid. As long as it’s not too personal. And if you’re asking about DUM-E again, the answer is _no_. I swear, every time the two of you are together some disaster happens. Why on earth would you try and play Twister against a robo-”

“No, it’s not about that,” Peter cut in. “I was just wondering what you were doing here, ‘cause, you know, it’s not like you’re staying at Avengers Tower anymore or anything.”

Tony was silent for a moment, as if caught by surprise. He hesitated, then said, “Well, let’s say that I was just working out something with a friend.”

“A friend? Like Capt-”

“No, no, not him,” answered Tony. “Someone else. I’ll tell you about it later. Maybe.”

Peter let out a puff of air, frowning.

“Don’t worry kid, you can pout about it later. But let’s figure out what happened here first.”

Peter turned and saw the Iron Man suit landing next to the huddled figure on the street below. Wincing, the teenager swung down and landed lightly beside his mentor. Iron Man’s mask flipped open, exposing Tony’s face. The billionaire knelt beside Stepanovich’s body, his scans immediately confirming that the man was dead, killed from his cyanide tooth. Tony turned to the teenager next to him. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded forcefully.

Peter shrank away from Tony, mind flashing back to the Ferry Incident, his stomach sick with guilt as he looked at the dead man in front of him. “I-I had just finished patrol and I was heading home when h-he threw a knife at me. I jumped down and confronted him because K-Karen did a facial recognition scan and records said that he died in jail. H-he said his name was, uh, Step something…”

**“Stepanovich.”** added Karen helpfully.

“Yeah, Stepanovich. He s-said… something about a hunt, said he was my… warm-up? And… and then he said that we would fight, and he would lose, and then he would die b-but I didn’t take him seriously so when I attacked I webbed him up and then he…” Peter trailed off, breath coming to him in gasps.

Tony ran his hands through his hair. What was he supposed to say in this situation? This poor kid had such a strong hero complex that he never killed _anyone_ , regardless of the circumstance. This could be the first time the kid had seen someone die like this, right in front of him. And someone as pure as Peter would blame himself for this man’s death.

Tony sighed. “Peter…” He put his hand on the young hero’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault. Stepanovich attacked you and you had to defend yourself. He’s the one that bit the cyanide tooth; nobody made him do that. There was _nothing_ else you could’ve done in this situation.”

Peter looked unconvinced. “But Mr. Stark, he t-told me that he would die if he lost. I knew that I was killing him by beating him. If I had just-” 

“Just what?” Tony interrupted angrily. “Let him kill you? Damn it, kid, you have to listen to me. I know it’s hard, but this is _not your fault_.”

Peter sighed. He looked at Stepanovich and thought of Uncle Ben, the first person he let die in front of him. _This is different_ , he told himself. Peter looked up at Tony and sighed again. “Ok, Mr. Stark,” he said miserably. “I understand.” 

Tony looked at the kid and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, let’s get you to the Compound. We can have one of the doctors take a quick look at you, and-”

“No, no, I’m fine,” said Peter quickly. “But thanks for the offer,” he added hastily. “I’m okay, really, Mr. Stark.”

Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly. He didn’t want to leave Peter alone after this traumatic experience, so he gave him another offer. “Seriously, it’ll just be a quick check-up. After that, we can have dinner and you can help me with a project I’m working on. And it’s a Friday, so you can’t use the ‘I-have-school-tomorrow excuse.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s a legitimate reason,” he pointed out. “And Aunt May will wonder if I’m gone.”

“Come on, kid,” said Tony. “Just tell Aunt Hottie that we decided to work on a project for the internship or something. It’ll be a well-deserved break! You can finally use the room that I ever-so-nicely designed for you a few months ago.”

At that, Peter’s eyes lit up. “I still have a room there? Even though I’m not an Avenger? No way!”

Tony shrugged. “Kid, it’s nothing _that_ special, don’t get your hopes up. Come on, call your aunt, and we can hit the road! I’ll even let you work with DUM-E…” he trailed off meaningfully. 

“Deal,” answered Peter. “I promise we won’t play Twister this time.” He paused for a second, then continued. “But Mr. Stark… could you help me make something?”

“Of course, kid” answered the billionaire. He then narrowed his eyes. “Well, it depends on what we’re making.”

“Just…” Peter sighed. “Could you help me make a- a dart or something I could store in my suit? With an antidote in case… well, if something like this happens again and I’m quick enough, I could save whoever… yeah.”

Tony looked at him, impressed and constantly in awe of the teenager’s purity. “I think that’s a great idea,” he said quietly. They both sat in silence for a moment, then Tony continued. “Well, why don’t you call May and I’ll call Happy and tell him to come pick us up. 

“Okay,” Peter answered quietly. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t get used to it,” warned Tony. “I’m not normally this nice.”

The kid shrugged. “That’s what you always say, Mr. Stark.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, well,” he said gruffly, “it’s true.”

............

As Peter and Tony talked, blissfully unaware of Kraven’s plans, the Hunter worked. He studied the Spider, trained to beat his techniques, worked with traps and weapons to bring him down. 

A knock at the door interrupted the Hunter. Kraven turned toward the doorway. 

“Come,” he growled, beckoning his visitor forward. 

The slender figure of Sasha joined her husband. “The first hunter has successfully engaged,” purred the women. “He engaged the Spider, then died after the Spider caught him. We have recordings of the fight for you to analyze.” She slid in closer to the massive Hunter. “All is going according to plan.”

Kraven the Hunter nodded appreciatively. “Perfect,” he replied. He looked over to an empty spot on the wall, ready to hold the head of his ultimate prize. 

“Soon the Spider will be mine.”


	2. A Spider to Scare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had just turned to walk away when Morozov’s voice cut through the silence. 
> 
> “Spider,” he growled. Tony and Peter whipped around to face the trapped man. “Spider, Spider, Spider,” he continued tauntingly.
> 
> Tony walked back to him. “Spit it out,” he demanded. 
> 
> Morozov ignored Tony and continued to stare at Peter, eyes glinting maniacally, his voice so rough that it hurt Peter’s ears. “Spider… prepare for the Hunt. I’m… only first… of many.”
> 
> “What?” Peter asked dumbly.
> 
> Morozov let out a raspy laugh. “This is just beginning, Spider. This is just beginning.”

“Welcome to your room, Underoos.”

 _No freaking way_. This was his room? This was just… it was just… _awesome_.

Wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and shocked, Peter took in the glorious space that had been designated as his bedroom. It was _huge_ \- far too big to be classified as a mere bedroom. But it wasn’t just the sheer size of the room that shocked him- the entire room, _his room_ , was like a dream come true. In one area sat a king-size bed with, to Peter’s surprise and delight, Star Wars covers. Posters decorated the corner of the room with the bed- Star Wars posters, old World Fair posters, and even posters with science puns. 

He also had his own TV, which was weird, and an alarmingly large closet that even had some clothing his size- jeans, AC/DC t-shirts (“It’s time to fix your terrible music taste, kid” explained Tony) and science pun t-shirts, and (Peter knew this was Tony’s idea of a joke), Iron Man underwear.

On the other side of the room sat a mini-laboratory. (“Stocked with everything you’d need for web-fluid, just in case you’re in the mood to make some yourself,” commented Tony proudly). It was stocked with everything science or tech-related that he had ever dreamed of. Tony showed him how he could even press a button that would bring a small separator up, dividing the lab and the rest of the room. 

“I, uh, _wow_ … Mr. Stark, this is- this is just amazing! Thank you so much! I mean really, this is crazy- you shouldn’t have do-”

“Woah, woah, take a breath,” said Tony, holding his hands up as if to slow down the stream of words escaping Peter’s mouth. “It’s not much, kid. Here, there’s a few things I want to show you that you can do in here.”

Peter watched, excited, as Tony reached over and picked up a remote on the stand next to Peter’s bed. “This remote controls everything in the room, but you can also just use voice activation. I’ve programmed Karen as the AI for your room since the two of you seem to get along so well.”

“Really?” Peter gasped. “Hey, Karen!”

 **“Hello, Peter,”** the AI replied with a tone that could be described as motherly. 

“Ok, Karen, initiate the Nighty-Night Spider protocol,” Tony commanded. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the lights in the room dimmed and turned a warmer color, the windows tinted as to let minimal light in, and the whole room suddenly became… quieter.

“See, kid,” began the billionaire, “I remember what you had said about your senses being dialed to… eleven. And I know that you experience… sensory overloads every once in a while but don’t tell me. And that’s fine, I get it, but I thought that, um, I could help.” He cleared his throat, not looking at the kid. “I just made some adjustments to the room so, in case you’re having a… bad day, you can just curl up in a little corner and take a spider-nap or something until it’s better. Once you initiate the Night-Night Spider protocol, the lights are automatically dimmed, Karen’s volume is turned down low, and the soundproof aspects of the room are activated, so you can’t hear anything from outside of the room. It’s not much, but… I hope it can help.”

Peter was silent for a moment, so Tony finally looked down and made eye contact with him. The older man was shocked to see the gratitude brimming in Peter’s eyes. 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the kid said quietly. “You have no idea how helpful this will be.”

The billionaire cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable with all the feelings and gratitude. _What do I say now?_ he thought, frantically searching for something to say. “Well, uh,” he began, “I’m glad you like it.”

There was another beat of awkward silence, which Peter finally broke. “I can’t believe that I have my own hi-tech lab! This is amazing… Ned will _freak_ out when he finds out.”

“Yeah, well… this lab is mostly for fiddling, it’s-the-middle-of-the-night-and-I-can’t-sleep kind of projects. But for everything else…” Tony looked at Peter mock-threateningly. “This better not distract you from coming to my lab, kid. I still need as many of your genius ideas as I can get.”

Peter blushed. “O-okay Mr. Stark,” he stammered. He didn’t know what to say whenever Tony had a rare moment of… seeming to care. Well, Peter thought that he cared, at least. 

The billionaires tried and failed to stifle a small smile. “Come on, kid,” he said. “I have something I want you to take a look at…”

............

The Hunter was completely still. 

Crouched on the floor, eyes closed, muscles tense.

He didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t make a single sound.

He listened.

The room was pitch black.

Kraven was still.

That’s when he heard the first noise. Footsteps, treading lightly but not lightly enough. Shallow breaths, the smell of sweat. Kraven grinned as his body tensed up. 

It happened in the blink of an eye. Too fast for any mere human to comprehend. Five of Kraven’s best men jumped out of from shadows, attacking with no hesitation. The Hunter leaped off of the ground, twisting midair and kicking two of his attackers. 

To beat the Spider, he must fight like the Spider. 

One man shot a strand of webbing at Kraven; the web-shooters they designed to mimic those of the Spider. Kraven’s hand shot out, lightning-quick, snagging the web. He turned, using the webbing and his momentum to throw the man with the web-shooter against the wall. Kraven brought his hand down to the blade stored in his belt, quickly severing the sticky substance that was attached to his palm. 

As two more men attacked him, the Hunter flipped over then pushed off of the wall, twisting his body midair and punching both men at once. As the men he had kicked earlier jumped back up, Kraven slid between them and incapacitated the first with a swift jab. He jumped up and grabbed the second in a chokehold with one arm. As he held the struggling man with his left arm, the Hunter reached into his belt and pulled out a small device, throwing it at the first man who was recovering on the floor. As the device came in contact with the gasping attacker, it expanded and encased him in a net. Kraven did the same to the other three attackers while keeping one attacker in a chokehold. 

As soon as the last attacker was incapacitated, the lights in the room came on and Kraven released the man he held. He clicked a button on his belt, and the nets released their captives. 

“Very impressive,” commented Sasha, her smooth, seductive voice filling the room as she walked in. “Don’t you think you are ready, Kraven?”

The Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps,” he growled, “but the Spider isn’t.”

Sasha placed one hand on her right hip, the other on the Hunter’s chest. “Kraven,” she began, “your obsession with Spider is… different than with your other prey. This hunt… this is about more than just killing him, is it not?”

The massive man shook his head. “Sasha, dear, you will never understand this part of the hunt. It’s about far more than just managing to kill the beast. One must demoralize the beast, bring a sense of fear into its life, truly and utterly defeat him in every way possible. I don’t aim to just kill the Spider. I am going to be his superior. He will feel pure fear, experience the terror of a trapped animal right before it knows that it will die. That, my dear, is the true purpose of this Hunt.

“Although,” Kraven continued, “I do have to admit that slaughtering the Spider will also bring me much joy.”

Sasha arched her eyebrows but didn’t challenge her husband. She turned away as one of the men that Kraven had been sparring against approached the Hunter. Kraven inclined his head slightly in greeting to the man, then folded his muscular arms over his chest.

“Kraven,” began the man, “when should I send Vasily Morozov after Spider?”

“Soon, Leonid,” answered Kraven. “And…” he paused for a moment, thinking. “Tell him to attack at the school of the Spider. Have him track the Spider, and attack when he is without costume. Report to me on how the Spider reacts. But,” he continued, low voice rumbling, “do not show me the footage. I do not wish to see the Spider without his mask.” 

Leonid bowed his head in acknowledgment. “I will do so, Kraven.”

“Good,” the Hunter replied simply. “While you do that,” the massive man said, “I will prepare for the second stage of the Hunt.” 

Leonid turned to his companions. “Okay, get Morozov ready.” He grinned. 

“We have a Spider to scare.”

............

Even though it was his fourth time in Tony’s lab, Peter still hadn’t gotten over his initial awe. Who could blame him- after all, he was in his idol’s personal lab. It was just too amazing for words. 

Peter never knew what to do when he entered the lab, so he just stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, gazing in wonder at the many suits, robots, and half-abandoned projects. Tony glanced up at the kid.

“This way, Spiderling. Come on, I don’t have all day,” he added half-jokingly. 

Peter shuffled over slowly, excitement overcoming the dull ache that had been radiating from his fractured ribs. The cut on his right side had been treated and bandaged, and it already felt much better than it did before. 

“What do you want to show me, Mr. Stark?” the teenager asked eagerly.

Tony shot a sideways glance at Peter. “Just so you know,” he began, “this is something I want to keep private for now. If I manage to figure it out… well, it could do a lot of damage. It’s FYEO.”

“FYEO?” said Peter.

“You know, like the movie?” asked Tony questioningly.

Peter’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ohh, that really old James Bond one!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Jeez, kid, way to make a man feel ancient.”

“Uhh, sorry,” Peter amended. “Anyways, yeah, I get the point, Mr. Stark. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” 

Tony folded his arms. “Not even your friend, what was his name, Ted?”

“Ned,” Peter corrected automatically. “And no, fine, I won’t tell him either.”

Tony held his slight intimidating pose, arms crossed, as he sent a skeptical look towards Peter.

“I swear I won’t tell him, Mr. Stark!” the teen earnestly promised. “Although he’d be so excited to be let in on a private project you’re working on…” Peter saw the look on Tony’s face and hastily backtracked. “Forget I said that. Mr. Stark, I swear on my _life_ I won’t tell Ned,” the teen finished theatrically.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Teenagers,” he grumbled. “Always so dramatic.”

After a few minutes of Peter promising to keep his lips sealed and begging Tony with his puppy-dog eyes, the billionaire finally gave in. He walked over to a small, flat device, about the size of a squashed tennis ball. It was a brushed silver color, with small rivulets along the sides and wires snaking across the surface. The device emitted a faint glow, a dark blue color pulsing from the machine. 

“This,” the billionaire said slowly, “could change the world as we know it. I call it…” he paused for dramatic effect. “...uh… I actually haven’t named it yet.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Teenagers,” he quipped, “Always so dramatic.”

“Watch your tone,” snarked Tony. “I did invite you here to help… it’s not finished yet, I’m waiting for inspiration. Do you want to know what it does, or not?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “Of course, Mr. Stark!”

Tony let out a _whoosh_ of air. “Okay,” he began, “it’s… a teleporter.”

Peter shot up. “You’re KIDDING!” he exclaimed. “No way! But- how does it work? Wow… can it truly teleport physical objects? Or just information? Is it instantaneous? I mean, just how??? Quantum entanglement, for sure, or-”

Tony held up his hands. “Slow down, kid, take a breath. Don’t want you passing out on me. I’ve been working with a scientist who is extremely well-educated when it comes to the Quantum Realm… well, at least more educated than others-”

“Hank Pym?” Peter guessed excitedly. When Tony nodded in confirmation, Peter gasped in excitement, wincing slightly at the pain in his side. “You get to work with _Hank Pym_???”

Tony laughed. “Underoos, calm down before you wet yourself. Yes, I work with Hank. Yes, he’s very smart. Yes, I know you’re fangirling over him right now. No, I don’t want to spend the rest of the night talking about your celebrity crush.” 

Peter blushed. “He’s not my celebrity crush,” he quickly replied. “He’s just… really amazing.”

“Hmph,” grumbled the billionaire. “Yeah, he’s pretty smart.” He coughed quietly into his hand. “So… do you want to know how it works?”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed. “This is _insane_! How are you able to transmit that much information? What power source are you using?”

“Well,” Tony began, “it’s… complicated. We haven’t tested it out on a human yet, but I’ve been able to teleport small objects like apples and wrenches. Our main problem is teleporting living beings.” He sighed. “There seems to be a mass limit of what we can teleport. A small creature, like a fly or even a small lizard teleported just fine, but…”

Peter closed his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t try and teleport a dog.”

“Nope,” Tony replied, “it was a cat, don’t worry.” Seeing the stricken look on the kid’s face, Tony rolled his eyes. “Kidding, kid, jeez. We tried teleporting multiple items at once, but it couldn’t do items that have a mass greater than six or seven kilograms.”

“It’s still amazing,” said Peter, adding impatiently, “But _how_ does it work?”

“FRI, pull up everything we have on teleportation,” Tony commanded.

 **“Here are all diagrams, videos, and notes that you have compiled on teleportation, Boss,”** the AI replied.

Tony reached forward and expanded one diagram, turning to Peter. “We were inspired by a number of things… our knowledge of the Quantum Realm, of course, channeling energy to form wormholes and using plasma beams to, well, catapult beings from place to place. Scientists had already established theories of how to teleport, but the main problem was - and still is - finding an energy source. But, we think we made a breakthrough,” Tony continued, rubbing his hands together. “We combined research that Bruce had done when we had the tesseract with our research on the energy-absorption qualities of vibranium, and… violà!” 

The billionaire zoomed in on small fragments of metal that were connected to the bottom of the device. “Similarly to how vanadium is able to store energy almost indefinitely, vibranium is able to do the same. When we ran an electric current through a sliver of vibranium while colliding neutrons with uranium atoms, the metal absorbed the energy and the radiation. We’ve been tracking the radiation, and the device isn’t emitting anything that could be bad for us… so, boom, teleportation device! And, the best part is that it’s basically ‘self-charging’, because, when you teleport, the vibranium absorbs energy while you’re teleporting.” He smirked at Peter’s awestruck expression. “I know, I’m a genius,” Tony joked.

“Wow,” Peter breathed. _This is so cool_. “But… why the mass limit?”

“Well… that’s that part we haven’t figured out yet,” Tony replied. “The more mass, the more atoms we have to teleport, the more energy is required. But if we place more than three slivers of charged vibranium on the device, the high amounts of energy that the vibranium absorbs somehow _magnetizes_ the steel on the device, but, and it hurts me to say this, we’re not quite sure why that is happening. So,” he concluded, “we can teleport, but we haven’t been able to try teleporting humans, and we can't teleport anything heavy.”

“It’s still so cool, Mr. Stark!” Peter said. “I mean, sorry, but wow. Just… wow.” 

“Well, Spiderling,” Tony said, “feel free to look at the diagrams, use that little genius mind of yours to help me out. But, _don’t_ touch the device,” he added threateningly. 

“If you do, I’ll send the Daily Bugle a copy of your _hilarious_ Thor impressions.”

............

Peter spent the rest of the night working on ideas with Tony, playing Uno with DUM-E, outlining ideas for a new Droney, and developing a cyanide antidote that he could carry around with him. It was a small metal dart that released enough of the antidote to cure a fully grown man once fired and embedded in someone’s skin. He returned home the next day, feeling much better than he had when he left Queens. 

After getting back home, he had lunch with May, who didn’t have work, and then went to his room to work on his homework. Ned called him halfway through an agonizingly dull history reading.

“Dude,” said Ned, “how was it? I can’t believe you got to spend a day working with _Tony Stark_ in his _personal lab_!”

Peter ran his head through his hair. “I know, same!” he agreed. “It was crazy. I even had my own specialized room.” 

“ThatisSOCOOL!,” Ned yelled. “What did you work on while you were there? Did you get to see the Iron Man suits? Did you get to see Vision or War Machine?”

“I spent almost the whole time working with Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “We worked on… um… updating my spider-drone and I worked with DUM-E a bit…” _And I got to study a groundbreaking teleportation device_ , he added silently. 

Ned sighed dreamily. “Amazing,” he said. “That’s just amazing.”

............

Peter finally told Ned what had happened on Friday in hushed tones during lunch. 

“Woah,” said Ned. “That’s really weird. He just… wow. If he was hunting you, why would he…” he saw the look on his friend’s face. “... yeah.” 

Peter shrugged. “I honestly have no idea,” Peter answered. “It all seemed really weird, but… that’s New York for you.” 

Ned chewed the inside of his lip, deep in thought. “But if he says that he’s the warm-up… does it mean that there will be more guys after him?”

“I dunno… I hope not,” Peter replied. “Whatever, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“You’re okay, though, right?” Ned asked, looking closely at his friend. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really,” Peter answered. “I’m good. It was just… really odd.” 

“Yeah, sounds like it. Hey, if you’re not busy after school, we can go to the new science exhibit at the- mmphfl” He stopped suddenly as Peter jumped as if shocked, and put his hand over Ned’s mouth. Ned stepped away. “Gross, dude,” he said.

“Shhh!” Peter said, eyes closed. He put his hand on his forehead. He had felt the… tingle run up his neck and through his head, a sign that something was wrong. Ned looked at his friend, concerned.

“Dude, are you okay? What happened?”

Peter took a deep breath, trying to focus. “Something’s wrong,” he muttered. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, they heard loud screams from the front of the school. Peter and Ned jumped up and sprinted towards the sound, where they were greeted with a horrific scene. A large, shirtless man stood near the main doors, with a fur coat draped over his arms and gleaming knives hanging from his belt. He was holding one of the substitute teachers by his throat when Peter and Ned skidded to a halt. Peter ran to confront the man when Ned grabbed his arm.

“Peter, you can’t!” Ned hissed. “Otherwise everyone will know.”

Right. Stupid secret identity.

Peter shook his head, stepping forward anyways. “We can’t let him kill anyone,” he argued. Peter turned to Ned. “Ned, I’m gonna distract him… try and figure out a way to trap him, or knock him out, or… something,” he finished frantically. Ned nodded, then thought for a moment.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised. 

Peter took a deep breath. He didn’t know how these men found out his identity or how they tracked him to his school, but he couldn’t let anyone get hurt because of him. Peter stepped back, hoped that nobody would be too suspicious, then ran and tackled the man, using enough force to knock him over, but not enough to make him seem… well, not weak. 

The man looked at Peter and smiled, dropping the substitute teacher and grabbing Peter. “Spider,” he said, a thick Russian accent bleeding into his words, “how nice to finally meet you.” He threw Peter into the lockers and towered over the teenager as he lay crumpled on the floor. 

The man grabbed Peter by the throat and lifted him up. “Oh, yes, Spider,” he said tauntingly, quietly. “The Hunt kontinues.”

Peter gasped, toes barely on the ground, thinking fast, “Wh- who are you?” he croaked. “Why a-are you doing this?”

The man threw back his head and laughed. “I’m a dead man,” he said. “And vell… I’m helping you prepare for Hunt. Don’t vorry, I’m just the varm-u- AGHH!” He reared back in surprise when Peter jabbed him in the eye with the pen he had in his left pocket. 

Peter felt sick when he saw the blood trickling from the man’s red eye. “Clever Spider,” the massive man growled, then turning and punching Peter so hard that he flew into the lockers behind him. As the man reached over to grab him again, a loud voice cut through the chaos.

“Peter, catch!”

Peter’s hand shot up as he snatched the small device that Ned tossed towards him. He looked down and saw a small, black device in his hand. Immediately recognizing it as advanced tasers they were studying, Peter hurled it at the man’s neck, where it attached itself to his skin. The muscular man didn’t even pause and grabbed Peter again, bringing him into a chokehold. Peter struggled as darkness began to creep into the corner of his vision, but was released when Ned activated the taser and shocked the man. 

Gasping for breath, Peter rolled away from the man and grabbed his backpack, frantically rummaging through its contents. He didn’t know what to do once the shock and temporary paralysis wore off… he would just have to try and discreetly web the man in place, which would risk revealing his identity but ensure that everyone at the school stayed safe. 

However, when the shirtless man was able to move again, he didn’t attack Peter. He just looked at him and smiled, revealing several missing teeth. At that moment, Peter knew what was going to happen. 

_Please work, please please work._

He pulled a dart out from his web shooter and hurled it at the man right as he heard the crack of a cyanide tooth breaking. Instead of frothing and dying, the man just sat there, confused, as the antidote raced through his system and kept him alive. Peter let out a sigh of relief but tensed up in preparation as the other man stood up angrily, looking ready to attack again. 

Luckily, the police burst through the door at the moment and tackled the shirtless man. He spat in anger as they forced his hands behind his back and cuffed them together. Peter relaxed again, relieved, and sat there for a moment until Ned sprinted over to him.

“Peter! Holy crap, are you ok?”

Peter coughed as Ned held out an arm and helped him up. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he rasped. “I just couldn’t do anything, because, you know… Anyways, great thinking with the taser.”

“Thanks!” Ned said, clearly excited at their team-up. “It was pretty amazing… I ran to the tech room and saw it in the case, but I had to smash the glass… hopefully they won’t get too mad… and then I heard you like ‘ahhhhh’ and I ran out and he threw you to the lockers and I was all like, ‘Peter, catch’ and you were like ‘ahhh’-” he stopped and looked at Peter. “I’m glad you’re ok, dude.” 

Peter gingerly rubbed his ribs, which he was pretty sure were fractured. “Yeah, thanks, Ned.” 

An announcement came on over the speakers. “Students, please evacuate the school. The police have arrived and apprehended the intruder, but we are canceling classes for the rest of the day to clean up and sort everything out.” 

Peter stood up and turned to Ned, his mind racing. What just happened? This was the second time in a few days that he had been attacked by random, buff, shirtless men wearing animal skins… people in New York were weird, but not normally that weird. And they both said the same thing about the Hunt… both had the cyanide tooth… they knew who he was… both said they were ‘dead’... what was going on? 

Wait.

The man knew who he was. 

_Shit._

“Ned!” Peter said urgently, freaking out. “Ned… he knew who I was.”

Ned turned to him, his horrified expression matching that on Peter’s face.

“Ned, we can’t let him go with the police. He’ll tell them… oh no…”

The two boys sprinted outside, sliding to a quick stop when they saw… Iron Man?

“Really, I’ll take him from here,” they heard Tony say, his red and gold armor gleaming in the light. “Trust me, SHIELD will deal with this. Unless you want to take care of the freakishly buff enhanced individual?”

One of the policemen seemed unconvinced, but the others nodded their heads agreeably. “Good luck with him, Iron Man!” said one of the officers. Iron Man saluted and grabbed the cuffed man. 

“Thank you for your service, officers.” 

Tony turned and saw Peter and Ned watching him. Tony walked over to the two teenagers, dragging the man along with him. 

“Peter,” said Tony, “get in the car.”

“Uhh…” Peter paused. “How, uh, d-”

Tony cut him off. “May called me, I was meeting a friend near here, there’s something fishy going on. Now get in the car.”

“O-okay,” Peter said, then turned to Ned. “Thanks again, man. That was awesome.”

Ned grinned and waved as Peter and Tony walked away. “Bye, Mr. Stark!” he called loudly. 

Peter turned to Tony as they walked to the car. “He’s not an enhanced individual,” Peter whispered. 

Tony rolled his eyes beneath his Iron Man armor. “Well, it convinced the police to let me take him without me having to do a ton of annoying paperwork, so I’d consider the lie worth it.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter began, “they know-”

“-who you are,” Tony finished. “I managed to figure that one out myself, kid. That’s why, unfortunately, we’re not even letting the police bring him to the compound. Looks like the two of you can bond in the backseat. Now get in the car.” He opened the door. “Oh, and try not to talk Romanoff’s ear off.”

“Romanoff?” asked Peter, confused. Then he turned and saw who was in the car. A slender figure, with dark red hair, dark clothes, and a dangerous look in her eye sat in the front seat. She gave him a scrutinizing look, then nodded silently in welcome. 

“OH MY- hi!” he squeaked. “Y-you’re the Black Widow!”

_No way! But… I didn’t know she was still on the Avengers. Or whatever is left of the Avengers. Didn’t she help Cap? No, she was on our side during the fight. But she hasn’t been seen in… ages. And she hasn’t been at the Compound when I’ve been there._

“Indeed I am,” she answered wryly, slightly confused. “And you are…?”

“I’m, uh, Peter Parker,” he answered. 

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “You’re Stark’s intern? Is that why you’re coming with us?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he bit his cheek when he realized that she didn’t know that he was Spider-Man. “Y-yeah,” he replied shakily. “That’s right. Me, the intern, that’s who I am. I do the, uh, interning stuff.” 

_Smooth, Parker._

She tilted her head, clearly unimpressed and very aware that he was hiding something. She didn’t comment on it, though, and instead answered with, “Well, nice to meet you, Peter.”

Luckily, their awkward interaction was ended when Tony shoved the handcuffed man into the back seat next to Peter. Peter saw that his belt and knives had been confiscated and he was wearing a new set of thick, sturdy cuffs. He was silent, but Peter was still afraid that he’d say something and expose his identity. Not that it would be too bad if the Black Widow found out, but still, Tony must’ve not told her for a reason. 

“Okay, everyone, let’s get this freak show on the road,” Tony said. “Natasha, you met Peter?”

She gave Tony a calculating look. “Yes, I did. He told me about his… interning.”

Tony cleared his throat uncomfortably and nodded his head. “Yep. Intern.” 

“Hmm,” Natasha said, clearly unconvinced. “Well, let’s get going, then.”

The first couple minutes of the drive was quiet until Tony broke the silence and asked Peter to give him the details on the incident at the school. Peter described how he tackled the intruder but focused on Ned’s part in tasing him. He didn’t mention anything the man said about the Hunt or the Spider in front of Natasha and omitted the part about the cyanide tooth and antidote, hoping that the man handcuffed next to him would stay silent. Luckily, the man didn’t say anything. Which was a little odd, but Peter pushed that thought aside.

After he finished his story, they sat there in silence, thinking to themselves. Tony cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad nobody at the school got hurt.”

“Very lucky,” commented Natasha. “I’m surprised you’re not hurt, Peter. I saw footage of this man throwing you headfirst into the lockers so hard that they dented.”

Peter froze as she called his bluff, cursing himself for assuming that nobody was recording. Of _course_ someone took a video of the attack. “Uh,” he said weakly, “I have a thick skull?”

Tony rolled his eyes.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. 

When they arrived at the compound, Happy and some guards brought the cuffed man into a holding cell, and Tony turned to Peter. “I’ll meet you in the lab in a few,” the billionaire said, more of a command than a mere statement. Peter nodded and walked inside the compound, finally calling May to let her know that he was at the compound and safe.

As soon as Peter walked away, Natasha turned to Tony. “I’m not stupid,” she hissed. “I know something is going on. Who is this kid?”

Tony shuffled his feet. “Like we said. He’s an intern. Just does science-y stuff. He’s not a bad kid, although he’s a little nerdy. Wait, take that back, he’s _really nerdy_. ”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Cut the crap, Tony.”

Tony sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Kid,” he called, resigned, “come back here.” 

As Peter bounded back towards the two adults, he glanced questioningly at Tony, who, in turn, glanced at Natasha. The Russian spy folded her arms and sent an intimidating stare at Peter. 

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What’s going on here?”

Peter hesitated and looked at Tony. 

“Your call, kid.” 

Well, Black Widow was an Avenger, so it’d be okay to tell her, right? He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I, uh,” he squeaked, “I’m Spider-Man.”

Black Widow’s emotionless face shifted momentarily, a bit of surprise leaking through her cool demeanor. She glanced at Tony, then turned back toward Peter. “How old are you?”

“Um… 15?” Peter answered. “Almost 16?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and she spun to face Tony. “You brought a 14-year-old child to Germany?” she demanded. “He could’ve been killed!”

Tony hesitated, then answered roughly. “I know that I’m doing, Natasha.”

“Yeah,” Peter piped in, “and Mr. Stark made me an amazing suit.”

Natasha seemed very unimpressed by his weak justification. “A suit only helps so much, Tony. Please tell me you’ve trained him, at least.”

When her comment was met with silence, her voice lowered. Tony winced; he could practically feel the anger radiating from Natasha’s voice. “You haven’t even _trained_ him?” she demanded. “Tony, you’re going to get him killed.”

Tony froze. Natasha glared at him.

Peter broke the silence. “I’m, uh, still right here.” 

Tony started. “Yeah, well, we’ll continue this conversation later, thank you very much. In the meantime, we have a prisoner to interrogate. Come on, Underoos, let’s go.” 

Peter shot an apologetic glance toward Natasha, shrugging, and obediently followed his mentor. Natasha swore in Russian under her breath and followed Tony as well. 

They made their way to the holding cell where the man who attacked Midtown was being kept. Tony sat down, not taking his eyes off of the man, and demanded, “What’s your name? Who are you? Who sent you, and _why_ did you attack Midtown?”

The man remained silent, his dark eyes revealing nothing. 

“FRIDAY, tell me everything you’ve got on him,” Tony demanded.

**“His name is Vasily Morozov. According to the records, he died six days ago in a jail cell in Volzhskiy, Russia. Volzhskiy is only a few kilometers away from Volgograd, which is where the last attacker was from. I have not been able to find any videos or other information concerning Morozov.”**

“Great,” Tony sighed. He turned toward Black Widow. “You up for a try?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You do know who you’re talking to, don’t you?”

“Yes, dear,” Tony snidely replied. “We’ll leave you to it, then.”

They had just turned to walk away when Morozov’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Spider,” he growled. Tony and Peter whipped around to face the trapped man. “Spider, Spider, Spider,” he continued tauntingly.

Tony walked back to him. “Spit it out,” he demanded. 

Morozov ignored Tony and continued to stare at Peter, eyes glinting maniacally, his voice so rough that it hurt Peter’s ears. “Spider… prepare for the Hunt. I’m… only first… of many.”

“What?” Peter asked dumbly.

Morozov let out a raspy laugh. “This is just beginning, Spider. This is just beginning.” 

Peter froze, his mind racing. What was he talking about? Why did these men keep on mentioning a hunt? Were they hunting him? Was that how they tracked him to his school? They knew who he was, what if they found May? Ned? MJ? Was he doing to have to spend the rest of the year living in fear of being attacked?

“-re you okay? Hey, kid, listen to me.” 

Peter jumped guiltily as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. He realized that he’d zoned out and forced himself to take calm, deep breaths. 

“Yeah, Mr. Stark?” he asked.

Tony looked him in the eye. “Don’t listen to him, kid. We’ll find out who sent these guys. Don’t worry- you have nothing to worry about.”

Peter nodded. “Right,” he said hoarsely. He looked at Morozov who was just sitting there, not even trying to escape, just sitting and looking at Peter with a sadistic smile. Peter shook his head, trying to clear it. This guy was just messing with him. He shouldn’t let it bother him.

The teenager looked back at Tony. “Right,” he repeated. “I’m not worried, Mr. Stark. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Tony clapped him on the back. “You’re right about that one, Spiderling,” he said. “Now let’s go and let Natasha have some fun.”

Peter glanced back uncomfortably but let Tony lead him away from the holding cell. But as he walked away, all he could hear was Morozov’s guttural laugh and the words he sang over and over until they were ingrained in Peter’s head.

“Let’s Hunt the Spider, Hunt the Spider, Hunt the… Spider…” 

............

_Shnk!_

_Shnk!_

_Shnk!_

Knife after knife penetrated the silhouette of Spider-Man that was hanging on the other side of the room, 120 feet away from Kraven. He threw knife after knife, each landing in the same spot, clustered around the heart. A smooth voice interrupted Kraven as he reared back to throw another knife. 

“We got details about Morozov,” said Sasha, entering the room. Kraven turned in surprise and set his knife down.

“Tell me what happened,” Kraven demanded.

Sasha shrugged. “Nothing of great importance. An antidote stopped him from dying from the cyanide, but he is well-trained. He knows his job is just to scare the Spider.”

Kraven nodded. “Good.”

He said nothing more, so Sasha exited the room. As she left, the Hunter continued to train, his aim perfect.

_Shnk!_

_Shnk!_

_Shnk!_

Three more knives embedded in the Spider’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Don't worry, the _whump_ will start in a couple chapters... and when it does, it'll be good. Poor Peter.


	3. The Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kraven watched as the Spider jumped when a cat stalked out of the shadows. He was definitely on high alert, cautious, and wary of being attacked; the fear was evident in his stance. Kraven fingered the teeth hanging around his neck and smiled.
> 
> The Spider was afraid.
> 
> Everything was perfect.

“-and putting him out in the field like that without even giving him an _ounce_ of training- you’re practically killing the kid, Tony!”

“Nat, listen. He was out there Spider-Manning anyways. All I did was give him a suit that helps to keep him _safe_. I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Do you even hear yourself? That’s _all_ you do? I’m saying you should be doing more!”

“Come on, Nat, I didn’t mean it like that. Damn it, just listen to me, okay?” Tony’s voice grew louder and angrier. “I’m not the kid’s father, I’m not his mentor, and he’s not some… random circus runaway that needs a teacher. I’m looking out for the kid, but honestly, he probably doesn’t even need my help.”

Natasha laughed coldly. “Oh, come on, Tony. I know you don’t believe that. I know you pretend to not care, but if something happens to the kid, you’ll be heartbroken. And rightly so. If he dies because you didn’t train him, it’s on _you_ , Tony.”

The sound of a door slamming echoed her words, followed by the _clank_ of a wrench being thrown against a wall. Peter stayed curled up in his bed and placed his pillow over his ears. Looks like it was going to be one of _those_ days today.

Last night was fairly uneventful after all of the chaos that happened yesterday. Morozov refused to say anything besides his taunting ‘Hunt the Spider’; even Black Widow’s most effective interrogation methods did nothing to sway the man. Peter was exhausted after the attack at his school, so after a couple of hours in the lab with Tony (where they still couldn’t figure out how to fix the mass problem of the teleporter) and a quick meal, Peter went to his (really cool) room and crashed.

He woke up to the sound of Mr. Stark and Black Widow arguing, their harsh voices echoing around Tony’s lab. They didn’t know what Peter could hear them, and _normally_ he’d be able to tune them out, but today it felt like his senses were dialed higher than usual. And, to be honest, he wanted to hear what they were saying. They were talking about him, so he didn’t feel that bad for eavesdropping. 

Peter could feel a headache building in the back of his head, so he burrowed under his covers and murmured, “K-Karen, initiate the,” he sighed, “Nighty-Night Spider Protocol.” 

The lights dimmed, and Peter could no longer hear voices and footsteps from outside. **“Ok, Peter,”** Karen replied softly. **“Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark that you are suffering from sensory overload?”**

Peter shook his head slowly. “No, thank you, Karen. It’s not that bad, I… just don’t want it to get worse.” 

**“Good idea,”** the AI responded. **“I’m impressed that you’re taking care of yourself for once, Peter.”**

“Ha, ha,” Peter responded. He took a few deep breaths and a sip of water, already feeling much better than he had before. After a few more minutes burrowed under his covers, Peter sat up and stretched his neck. He stood up, feeling loads better and refreshed.

“Huh, that’s weird,” he said. “Normally my sensory overload headaches last all day.”

**“Early response to the overload seems to have dramatically reduced its effects,”** Karen replied. **“However, I would still recommend resting for the next hour to ensure your headache doesn’t return.”**

“Sounds good, Karen,” Peter replied. He hummed to himself a little as he took a quick shower and threw on a clean shirt and pants, brushed his teeth, and ran his hair through his wet hair. He then sat down at his lab (his _personal_ lab!) and decided to fill some web-fluid cartridges, because he was running low. 

He grabbed salicylic acid, toluene, methanol, n-heptane, carbon tetrachloride, potassium carbonate, ethyl acetate, hexane, butylated hydroxyanisole, sodium tetraborate, and silica gel. His hands moved of their own accord as he idly combined ingredients, boiled the mixture, sealed the flask, and started another mixture as he waited for the first mixture to cool. When that happened, he added a sixth ingredient and heated it slowly. Now he’d just have to wait until tomorrow for the fluid to be complete.

As Peter continued to work, he started thinking about the teleporter. It was truly amazing science, he thought. Of course it was- Mr. Stark was a genius. The only problem was the steel. Having more than three slivers of charged vibranium caused the energy to run through the steel quite violently, causing it to magnetize and warp in on itself. Mr. Stark was trying to figure out a way to provide extra support around the steel to stabilize it but he wasn’t having much luck. 

The teenager grabbed a vial of fluid that he’d stirred yesterday and started slowly filling his empty web cartridges. He was (secretly) very proud of his web-fluid, as it was something he’d made himself. His powers were just him getting lucky and the suit was all Mr. Stark, but the web-shooters and webbing were completely original. And they were freaking _awesome_. The webbing was insanely strong, and he’d developed different formulas for different situations; he had fireproof webbing, waterproof webbing, permanent webbing, acidic webbing (yeah, that one was a pain to clean up), and a very lightweight webbing that was a perfect insulator. 

Peter froze, struck by a sudden thought. Insulator. God, he was stupid. The energy… the electricity was magnetizing the steel. And the best way to fix that simply to insulate the steel. An insulator like the webbing was strong enough to stop the pulsing, electric shocks from the charged vibranium… if he tweaked his formula a bit, he could make a thinner, rubber-like webbing that wouldn’t melt and would support the device’s structure. 

_It could work_ , Peter thought, growing excited. But… wouldn’t Mr. Stark already had thought of this himself? He hadn’t mentioned ever trying to insulate the steel, but it was such a simple concept that he probably had thought of it. Had he? 

“Karen,” Peter said, “pull up all the information Mr. Stark had shared with me on the teleportation device.”

**“Okay, Peter,”** Karen responded, projecting the requested documents in front of Peter, who searched but found no mention of an insulator.

_“Holy_ \- wow, this could actually work,” Peter breathed. Right as he jumped up to tell Mr. Stark, Karen interrupted quietly.

**“Peter,”** she said, **“Mr. Stark wants to see you. I informed him that you activated the Nighty-Night Spider protocol when he approached the door, but-”**

“No, uh, deactivate Nighty-Night Spider protocol, Karen, please,” Peter cut her off hurriedly. He wrenched the door open and collided with a slightly concerned Tony Stark. 

“Whoa, kid, what’s going on?” Tony whispered. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Peter said distractedly. “But Mr. Stark! I think I figured it out?”

Tony looked at him closely. “Figured what out?” he whispered. “Can I talk normally now?”

Peter nodded quickly. “I had a bit of a headache but the protocol helped, so I’m fine now- but I think I figured out the teleportation device!” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, attempting to hide his skepticism. “You did?” he asked.

“W-well, I think so? I hope so?” Peter answered. “What if, instead of adding additional support, we just insulated the steel?”

Tony stared at him for a moment, then swore. “That could… that could work,” he mumbled, running his hands over his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before… holy _shit_ , I’m an idiot sometimes.” 

Tony pivoted and started walking towards his lab. Peter remained where he was, uncertain if he was invited. To his delight, Tony turned and beckoned for the teenager to join him, and Peter bounded after Tony, wild with excitement. 

............ 

**“Initiating test 3F,”** said Friday.

Peter and Tony watched hopefully as the teleporter, now with 30 slivers of charged vibranium evenly placed around the bottom of the device. They had discovered that the mass limit exponentially increased as they added more pieces of vibranium, so now the teleporter could transport around 115 kilograms, which was about 250 pounds. 

Hopefully.

That was their theory, at least, so Peter and Tony had attached 250 pounds to the device and set the device to appear on the other side of the room. They stood back and watched, fingers crossed, as DUM-E pushed the button and then rolled backward. 

With a flash of blue light and a faint humming noise, the device glowed and then disappeared, appearing a couple of seconds later on the other side of the room. Peter looked at Tony, jaw practically touching the ground in shock.

It worked.

It _worked!_

_This has got to be the coolest moment of my life_ , Peter thought happily. And when Tony pulled Peter into a one-armed hug, Peter thought he might pass out in shock. 

Everything was just perfect.

............

Everything was just perfect.

It was all going according to plan. 

Kraven lounged on his couch, watching a video feed on the screen in front of him. Leonid was stealthily following the Spider, a camera on his suit relaying what he saw to Kraven. Kraven grinned, satisfied, as he saw the Spider glance over his shoulder several times while swinging. Good. The fear was growing. Soon fear would be all the Spider would know. That was how it had to be. 

Kraven watched as the Spider jumped when a cat stalked out of the shadows. He was definitely on high alert, cautious, and wary of being attacked; the fear was evident in his stance. Kraven fingered the teeth hanging around his neck and smiled.

The Spider was afraid.

Everything was perfect. 

............

After their remarkable discovery, Mr. Stark said that he had to go run some tests with Dr. Pym to make sure that the device was safe for living beings. Happy gave Peter a ride back home, so he had plenty of time for his normal patrol. But something felt off the whole time... 

Peter crawled into his room and pulled his mask off, hair rumpled. He closed his window and sat down on his bed. He knew someone had been following him; he just got that feeling. But the weird feeling in his neck (Peter thought of it as a spider-sense, May called it his Peter tingle) was absent, so Peter knew that he hadn’t been in danger.

Hopefully.

The teenager sighed. Was he being paranoid for no reason? It just… felt like something was off. He could still hear Morozov’s eerie voice, running through his head over and over again… _The Hunt, the Hunt, the Hunt._

He was probably just being paranoid.

Right?

Peter put his mask back on. If someone was hunting him, it’d be better if they hunted Spider-Man than Peter Parker. He didn’t want to risk May’s safety. 

_Hunt the Spider_...

“Stop it,” Peter told himself aloud. “Nobody is hunting you. Stop overreacting.”

**“That’s the spirit, Peter,”** Karen replied. 

Peter sighed again, then took off his costume. Maybe some rest would cure his developing paranoia. 

If he ever managed to fall asleep.   
............

School was canceled the next day so Midtown could be cleaned up and extra security could be arranged for the next month. Tony surprised Peter by calling him and inviting him to spend the day at the Compound. He didn’t give Peter any details other than ordering him to wear joggers, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. 

Peter was confused when Natasha was waiting with Tony outside of the Compound when he arrived. “Uh, hi?” he said timidly, put off by Natasha’s cold and indifferent exterior.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony greeted the teen. “So, uh, we’ve decided that Natasha here is going to give you a bit of training. Just… so you’re prepared for any circumstance.” Tony shifted uncomfortably and turned toward Black Widow. 

“Come,” she said simply, then stalked into the Compound. 

Peter shot a slightly terrified glance at Tony then followed obediently. Was Black Widow mad at him? What had he done wrong? Was she going to kill him? What was he thinking, of _course_ she was going to kill him. This was _THE Black Widow_ he was talking about. 

By now, Peter was panicking, and he started _super_ panicking when Natasha led him to a large, empty training room with hard floors and padded walls, eventually topping in the center of the room. 

“Attack me.”

“U-uh, what?” Peter asked.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “It’s not that hard to understand. Attack me.”

Peter gulped. What if he hurt her? She wasn’t enhanced and didn’t have super strength, while he could catch cars and lift, well, a lot of weight. 

Peter began, “But what if I- OOF!”

Natasha had kicked him in the gut while he was protesting, sending him sliding across the floor. 

“Ow,” Peter said, gingerly standing up. His eyes widened as he saw the Black Widow jumping towards him to attack again. He frantically dodged her kicks and punches, his sense helping him avoid her attacks in the nick of time. She drove him toward the wall, forcing Peter to flip over the spy’s head. As he landed, Natasha swept his feet out from under him and pinned him down. 

“You’re dead,” she said. “If I were trying to kill you, you’d be dead right now. Even with your lack of training, you could’ve beaten me, but you were so afraid to hurt me that you didn’t even try to hit me once.” She released him and allowed him to stand up. 

“Peter,” she said, “don’t be afraid to hit me. Trust me, I can take it if you somehow manage to land a punch.”

She continued. “Tony has done nothing but hand you a suit and send you off to fight crime on your own. He’s going to get you hurt. I’m trying to prevent that.”

“Mr. Stark has done more than that,” Peter protested. “There’s, uh, safety protocols on my suit…” _that I’ve disabled,_ he finished silently. 

Seeing Peter hesitate, Natasha folded her arms. “You can either fight back and let me teach you or sit there and let me kick your ass over and over again. It’s your choice, Spider-Man.”

Peter let out a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Natasha leapt into action. She sent punch after punch towards the teenager, who flipped over her and tried to kick her. Black Widow twisted to avoid the attack, then grabbed Peter’s foot to try and flip him onto his back. He used her momentum against her, jumping up and flipping, causing Natasha to land on the ground instead of him. He tried to pin her down but she rolled out of the way, leaping up and landing on her feet.

The two arachnid-themed heroes faced each other for a moment, each a bit out of breath. Natasha smirked. “Not bad,” she said, “but you haven’t hit me yet.”

She attacked again, and the two of them traded punches for a while, both heroes dodging and twisting to avoid being hit. Peter narrowed his eyes.

_There’s no way I’m going to hit her if I continue like this,_ he thought. Time to change his tactic. He studied her fighting style as she dodged his blows. She favored her left side, he thought, and decided to take advantage of that. He faked a punch but jumped and tried to hit her again instead of following through on his first attack. It caught Natasha by surprise, and as she turned to recover Peter hit her in the back, sending her sliding on the floor. 

“Ohmygod are you okay?” Peter asked frantically. He didn’t know how strong she was so he pulled his punch but now he wasn’t sure if he had hit her too hard. As he ran closer to check on her, Natasha jumped up and flipped him onto his back, pinning him down again. 

“Lesson one,” she said, “is to never let your guard down.” 

“Uh, sorry,” Peter replied sheepishly. She helped him up and he dusted himself off. 

“Don’t apologize,” Widow said succinctly. “Just learn.” 

Peter blinked. “Uh, ok.”

He was surprised when Natasha gave him a genuine smile. “That was pretty good, Spider-Man,” she said. “Your form is decent considering you’ve never been trained, and you’re flexible, fast, and strong. With a bit of training, you’d be able to drastically improve and be prepared to fight even if you lost your web-shooters and your suit.”

“W-wow, thanks!” he stammered. He just fought Black Widow! She didn’t totally humiliate him! She said that he was decent! Ned was going to _freak out_ when he found ou- 

_Wham!_

Peter found himself on the floor again. Natasha frowned sternly. “What did I say about letting your guard down?” Peter blushed, embarrassed, and she continued. “Let’s go again. It’s time you learned to fight, malen'kiy pauk.” 

............

After three hours of non-stop training, Happy gave Peter a ride back to his apartment in Queens. When he got home, Peter collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. God, that woman _terrified_ him. 

After a couple of minutes of wonderful relaxation, Peter walked over to his bedroom and pulled on his costume. Time for patrol.

Yay.

Peter crawled out his window and started swinging around, muscles shrieking in protest. He was so tired. Maybe he’d take a quick nap… 

A high-pitched scream interrupted his train of thought. Spider-Man swung down, heading toward the sound. A dirty, clearly drunk man was holding a thin woman by her throat in an alley. 

“Woah, woah, hold up,” Peter said, landing lightly next to the man. “Why don’t you just put the lady down, and we can all go home.”

The drunk man sneered. “Come any closer and I’ll kill her, Spider-Man.”

Peter crouched down slowly. “Do that,” he said, turning his voice raspy, “and I’ll send my army of spiders after you.” 

The man was silent for a heartbeat, then turned toward Peter. “You can’t do that,” he scoffed. 

Peter spread his arms wide and began to yell, keeping his voice deep. _“Vieni, il mio esercito di ragni! Vieni a mangiare quest'uomo!”_

The drunk man yelled in fear and dropped the woman he was holding. “I’m s’rry,” he slurred, stumbling backward. “Don’t- please don’t _mffphhhhhh!_ ”

Peter shot a web at his mouth then flipped and webbed the man to the brick wall behind him. _Idiot,_ he thought. As if he could summon an army of spiders. It’d be, like, _totally awesome_ but also a little weird. 

Peter walked over to the woman, who had (surprisingly) remained calm and didn’t run away. “Are you okay, ma’am?” Peter asked politely.

The woman smiled. “Yes, thank you for saving me.”

Peter nodded. “Thank you for not hitting me on the head with your purse,” he replied solemnly. “It happens quite often, and I’m pretty sure I got a concussion once from a surprisingly strong grandma who carried tins of cat food around with her.”

The woman laughed, and Peter jumped onto the wall. “Well, I’d best be going, but… stay safe, ma’am!”

“I will!” she replied. “And Spider-Man- Il tuo italiano è piuttosto impressionante!”

Peter grinned under his mask. “Grazie mille!” he called as he swung away.

Having received a burst of energy after saving the woman, Peter spent the next couple of hours saving cats, stopping car thieves, and apprehending a very aggressive burglar.

“Dude, you need to chill,” Peter yelled as he swung away, the aforementioned burglar now webbed to a lamppost. 

**“Peter,”** Karen announced, **“There is an apartment fire on the corner of 64th and Booth street.”**

“I’m on it,” Peter replied. “How far will it take me to get there?”

**“Around three minutes, Peter,”** Karen replied.

“I’ll make it two,” Peter responded.

**“Peter, you have received a text from MJ,”** his AI said.

“What does it say?”

**“It says, ‘Hey dork, are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since the attack, and I saw you and Ned in the middle of it.”**

“Huh,” Peter said. “That’s… surprisingly friendly.”

**“How would you like to reply?”**

“Just, uh… I dunno, say ‘Yeah, I’m good, what about you?’”

**“She said, ‘Are we still studying today with Ned?’”**

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that.”

**“What would you like me to say?”**

Peter arrived at the burning building. “Karen, how many people are inside?”

**“Two on the top floor, and one on the third floor. How should I respond to MJ?”**

“Karen now is _not_ the time,” Peter replied, gritting his teeth as he climbed up the building and dove through the top window. He saw a woman clutching a toddler close to her and sprinting towards them. “I’ll get you out of here,” he yelled, grabbing both of the terrified people and dragging them outside. He swung down and quickly placed them on the ground, then shot back up towards the third floor.

“Karen. Where’s the last person?” Peter asked frantically. 

**“Two doors down the hall, in the room on the right side. I would suggest that you hurry; the building is very unstable, the suit won’t be able to protect you for much longer, and the smoke is reaching very unhealthy levels.”**

Peter didn’t reply, choosing to save his breath as he hurtled toward the trapped victim. He ran into the room only to jump back as a piece of flaming debris came flying down from above. He clenched his teeth and sprinted into the room, grabbing the victim and smashing through the window. He twisted his body to protect the victim from the glass, and they hurtled toward the ground. Peter frantically clicked his web-shooter and managed to snag the side of the building next to the burning apartment, but they still crashed down and Peter landed heavily on the concrete, taking the brunt of the impact. 

“Ow,” he groaned. “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow.” 

He rolled out from under the man that he rescued, then sat up slowly and rubbed his head. “You okay, man?” Peter hoarsely asked the person sitting next to him. 

The man coughed. “Thank you… y-you saved my life.”

Peter stood up unsteadily as he saw cops and paramedics approaching. “All in a day’s work!” he called as he swung away. Landing on a building overlooking the scene, Peter sat down and took a few deep breaths. 

**“Good job, Peter,”** Karen said. **“You successfully rescued all of the trapped citizens and suffered minimal injury. You have several first-degree burns on your arms, legs, and back, minor contusions, and will suffer mild smoke inhalation symptoms, but those will all heal quickly and do not require medical attention.”**

Peter grinned. “Perfect. Thanks for your help, Karen.”

**“You are receiving a call from Michelle Jones.”**

“What?” Peter asked, confused.

**“Answering the call from: Michelle Jones.”**

“Wha- Karen, no-”

“Hey, dork,” came MJ’s voice. “What’s going on? Why’d you ditch me and Ned?”

“Uhhhmmm, hi, MJ,” Peter said, letting out a small cough. “I’m sorry, I’m, uh… getting groceries?”

_Stupid, Parker, why did you make it sound like a question???_

“Why is your voice so raspy?” MJ asked suspiciously. “Have you been smoking?”

“What? No, of course not! I’d never do that!” He tried to discreetly clear his throat. “I’m, just, uh, maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Michelle sounded unconvinced. “Riiiight. Well, I guess Ned and I will just study by ourselves. See ya, loser.”

**“Call ended from: Michelle Jones,”** Karen announced.

Peter flopped back onto the roof he was sitting on. “Whew,” he said. “Karen, would you mind giving me a bit more of a heads-up before you answer the calls?”

“ **Of course, Peter,”** Karen replied smoothly. **“Where would you like to go now?”**

Peter shrugged. “The usual. I’ll just swing around and see if anyone needs he-”

_Shnk!_

A knife hurtled through the air toward the teenager, who yelped and dodged in the nick of time. 

“Oh my God,” Peter groaned. “Not _again._ ”

When would he get a break from these guys?

He flipped around to see, surprise surprise, _another_ large, shirtless man armed with an assortment of knives. Peter jumped down and landed lightly beside the man.

“Hey, sorry to burst your bubble, but that costume’s already been taken,” the teen quipped. “Seriously, how unoriginal can you get? Lemme guess, your name is Ivan? Dmitri? Vladimir? Spider-Man, that was rude,” he scolded himself. “Not _all_ Russians have the same name.”

“Da, my name is Vladimir,” the man responded. (Peter smirked) “And I’m here to-”

“Wait, wait, give me a chance to guess,” Peter said, holding his hands out to pause the man. “Ooo, I know! You want an autograph?”

“I’m here on my master’s orders,” the man growled. “This signals… the start of the Hunt.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. He knew it. Someone _had_ been following him. What was going on? Why were they hunting him?

“Ha, ha,” Peter replied. “You even stole the lines from the last guy. No offense, but your cosplay _sucks._ ”

The man smirked. “Laugh all you want, Spider, but there is nothing you can do to stop the Hunt.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough,” Peter said. He jumped up to attack but as he moved an earsplitting noise thundered through his head. 

“Ahhh!” he screamed, landing on his knees and clutching his head. What was that sound? It was so loud, thundering through his mind, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t… couldn’t… 

The noise was like drums, pounding relentlessly through his head. Peter couldn’t comprehend what was happening; all he could hear were the drums.

_The Hunt, The Hunt, the Hunt the Hunt the Hunt theHunttheHunttheHunttheHunt…_

He didn’t know what to do, all he could feel was fear, a paralyzing fear that ran from the tips of his toes all the way to the top of his head. He was being hunted, he would die, die alone, as prey-

_Move!_

Peter rolled out of the way as a knife came down where he had been lying. He stumbled, following his instincts as he attempted to form a coherent sentence. He jumped again, blindly dodging a second knife but flew backward as Vladimir punched him in the gut. Peter lay there, coughing, head throbbing as the enormous man approached him. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew that he was going to die. He couldn’t even move to defend himself, the pounding was so strong. 

Peter sat limply as the man pinned him to the ground and pulled out his knife. He was going to die, oh God, he was going to die and he couldn’t move, the drums… God, why did he disable Karen’s protocols, why... why wouldn’t the drums stop, why couldn’t he _move?_

Peter felt a sharp pain in his left arm… felt the knife slicing his flesh, felt the flood seeping through his costume… the drums, the Hunt…

Darkness creeping into the edges of his vision, Peter was gasping for air, writing as the man carved into his arm…

…

…

**“Peter?”** Karen’s voice broke through the beating in his head. 

**“Peter, would you like me to contact Mr. Stark?”**

Peter sat up groggily. The pounding had lessened significantly, but it was still there. At least he could move now. He blinked. Why wasn’t he dead? What happened to the man? Did he just… leave?

**“Peter?”** Karen asked again.

“I-I’m fine,” Peter gasped. “Wh-what happened?”

**“Vladimir appears to have left.”**

“J-just like that?” Peter asked, confused.

**“He… left a message for you. On your left arm.”**

“Wh-what?”

Peter looked at his throbbing arm and felt a chill run through his body. Carved in his flesh was a message from the Russian man.

_The Hunt begins_

Peter felt sick, seeing the words inscribed into his arm. He stood up unsteadily and stumbled as a wave of black swept through his vision. They knew who he was, they knew where he lived, he wasn’t safe anywhere. There was nothing he could do, he couldn’t think, the drums wouldn’t stop…

Peter staggered into an alleyway and collapsed. The last thing he heard was the beating of the drums, whispering over and over again…

_The Hunt begins… Spider._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!


	4. The Drums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter cried out and fell to his knees. God, not again. The drums… pounding… he had to stand up…
> 
> A pair of arms grabbed him roughly and dragged him to his feet. Peter cried out, striking out blindly and feeling a satisfying crunch as he hit his target. But Peter couldn’t run, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe…
> 
> God, no, please, somebody help him.

“-ohmygod is that-”

“-it’s Spidey, is he hurt?”

“He’s passed out on the ground, idiot, of course he’s hurt-”

“-maybe he’s drunk? _Ow_ , okay, he’s probably hurt-”

“He’s not bleeding much though, just his arm-”

“-should we unmask him? The Bugle’d pay a ton if we got his identity-” 

“- _idiot_ , didn’t he save your sister last week?That’s a dumbass way to repay him-”

“-ok, _ok_ , you’re right-”

“-oh shit, he’s waking up-”

Peter groaned and forced his eyes open. God, his head was pounding, each jarring drumbeat in his head echoing the same word, over and over and over… 

_(Thud) Hunt…_

_(Thud) Hunt…_

_(Thud) Hunt…_

Voices jolted him back to reality. “H-hey, Spidey, are you ok?” asked a pale teenager, freckles scattered across his face. 

Peter coughed. “Y-yeah,” he said, “I’m… I’m fine.”

The second teenager looked concerned. “You don’t seem fine, man. You were passed out until a second ago.”

Peter shook his head, wincing as each movement intensified the drums. “I’m okay, really. Thanks for… not taking my mask off.”

He stood up unsteadily, waving away the teenagers as they rushed over to help him. “A-are you sure?” the freckled kid asked. “We can help, grab some bandages…”

“Really, I’m ok,” Peter said, as firmly as he could. And he _was_ okay, other than the… new inscription in his left arm. “Karen, injury report?” Peter asked.

 **“You have only been passed out for 48 minutes. Injuries include fractured ribs, several contusions, slight concussion, several lacerations on your left arm. They’re not super deep, but should be treated to avoid infection. Peter,”** Karen continued, **“you should contact Tony Stark. I would’ve already, but it seems that you’ve blocked me from being able to do that without your permission unless you have sustained a life-threatening injury.”** The AI sounded surprisingly reproachful.

“No, Karen, do _not_ contact Mr. Stark.” Peter staggered out of the alley, waving to the teenagers who found him and saying a weak, “thanks!” 

_Have to run have to hide I’m being hunted_

Peter stumbled and paused, leaning against a building. He gritted his teeth and started to climb up the wall, still-sore muscles screaming in protest and head pounding relentlessly.

_Hunt, hunt, hunt…_

“God, Karen, where is that noise coming from?” Peter asked, barely making it to the top of the building before collapsing, head in his hands.

Karen paused before responding. **“I am not detecting any unusual sounds, Peter. However, you are expressing signs of distress and your heart rate has dramatically increased. Would you like me to call Tony Stark?”**

“ _No_ , Karen,” Peter snapped in frustration. Something was wrong, something was happening, he was being hunted, no, no, no… was there someone behind the building? Waiting for him? 

_Hunt, hunt, hunt…_

He had to hide, they were going to find him, hurt him, why did the last man let him live, just end the hunt, please…

 **“Peter!”** Karen said loudly, jarring the teenager from his stupor. **“What is wrong?”**

Peter curled up into a ball, small gasps escaping with every word. “K-Karen... I h-hear d-drums and… and they’re h-hunting me-”

 **“I detect no drums,”** the AI said calmly. **“I’ve scanned the area and there are no individuals who are similar to the last three who have attacked you. You are perfectly safe, Peter.”**

Peter closed his eyes, trying to control his trembling. He was safe, nobody was attacking him… no, they were hunting him, he was the prey, weak, defenseless… 

**“Are you sure you don’t want me to contact Tony Stark?”** Karen asked for a third time. 

Peter clenched his fists, trying to calm down. He knew what would happen if Mr. Stark found out that he was freaking out. The suit would be gone, Mr. Stark wouldn’t trust him anymore, and they’d all just see him as a weak, scared kid.

“I’m okay, Karen,” Peter said. “Don’t- don’t call Mr. Stark.”

Karen hummed disapprovingly but didn’t press the issue any further. **“Well, you should at least go treat your injuries,”** the motherly AI insisted.

Peter sighed. “Yes, ok, fine, I will.” He wanted to get home anyways and figure out what was happening to him. The sound of the drums had lessened a bit, and the paralyzing, frantic fear that he’d felt earlier had receded. 

He managed to swing home, slip into his room, and collapse on his bed. Peter looked at the cuts the knife had made in his suit (and in his skin, but he _didn’t_ want to look at those or even think of the word that was running through his head, haunting him). Hopefully superglue could fix it?

Mr. Stark was going to _kill_ him if he saw the mangled left arm of the suit. 

Peter gingerly pulled off his suit and threw it on the ground. He’d take care of that in a moment. His head and ribs were aching, but nothing serious, so Peter ignored the pain and grabbed an antiseptic cleaner that he kept for minor cuts and scrapes, hissing as he poured it onto the open cuts. 

_The Hunt Begins_

Peter closed his eyes and swallowed the growing nausea that threatened to overcome him. He blindly grabbed the bandages and messily wrapped them around his arm. That would have to do for now. Peter then began the laborious process of delicately gluing and (trying to) sew his costume back together. It looked… a little patchy, but it was fine.

The boy stumbled back into his bed and curled into the fetal position. The drumming had lessened but they still echoed through his head.

_The Hunt the Hunt the Hunt_

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the fear in the pit of his stomach. Exhausted, the teenager fell into a fitful, fearful sleep. 

............

Kraven stood alone in the center of his room, idly sharpening an enormous knife. He lifted his head when he sensed a man approaching him, proud eyes narrow as he inclined his head in permission for the visitor to enter.

Vladimir Turgenev bowed his head respectfully. “My mission was successful, Kraven. The Spider was easily caught and defeated, and I let the… message as requested. The drums have sounded, the Hunt has begun.”

Kraven nodded approvingly. “Perfect. Kidnap and bring to me the bait… and we will wait for the Spider to come to us.” He stretched, muscles rippling. “In the meantime, I think I’m up for a little… warm-up of my own.” Kraven turned toward Vladimir. “Who would you suggest? Aleksei Sytsevich, the one who calls himself the Rhino? Or perhaps the ridiculous Squirrel…”

Vladimir cleared his throat. “If I may…” when Kraven nodded in permission, the man continued. “I would suggest the one they call Tigra? She’s known to be quick and fierce; it’d be a thrilling hunt.”

Kraven hummed in agreement. “Excellent idea,” he said, then signaled for Vladimir to leave. “Thank you for your work, Vladimir,” Kraven said. Vladimir nodded in response and turned to leave when Kraven spoke again.

“Vladimir,” the Hunter said, “tell the others to prepare a mount for the Tiger. I’ll be back tomorrow… with her head.” 

............

Peter’s dreams were filled with knives, shirtless Russian men, and drums.

Wonderful.

Luckily, May saved him from this strange torture by waking him up when she entered the apartment.

“Peter?” she called. “Are you home?”

Peter groaned, then flopped out of bed. The drums were still in his head, but… not as bad as before. “Yeah, May,” he said. “I’m here.”

He stumbled out of his room and gave her a hug. She pushed him back and scrutinized him. “You look… pale,” she said. “Are you okay?”

He smiled weakly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, the _thud thud thud_ of drums in his head disagreeing with him. “I’m just tired from a very intense training session with Black Widow.”

May’s eyes widened. “That’s… kind of cool,” she admitted. “What was she like?”

Peter laughed. “Very, _very_ intense. But she’s already taught me a ton, so that’s super helpful.”

May ruffled his hair. “I’m glad,” she said. “You up for Thai for dinner?”

Peter forced a smile. “I’d love that,” he managed.

............

The next day, Ned noticed that something was wrong with his friend. He leaned toward Peter. “Hey, you good?” Ned asked.

Peter jumped, as if Ned had scared him. “Y-yeah,” he stuttered. “I’m okay.”

“H-hey, P-penis P-parker,” Flash mocked, overhearing Peter’s surprised stutter. “How’s it going, ‘tard?”

Peter ignored him, clenching his fists and taking deep, steadying breaths. Ned put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, startling him. “Peter, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Peter shook his head.

_The Hunt the Hunt the Hunt…_

“Nothing,” he managed. “Really, I’m fine.”

Ned looked unconvinced, so Peter quickly changed the topic. “Ned, you won’t believe who I trained with yesterday…”

............  
After school, Peter was managing to do his normal patrol when Karen interrupted his routine.

 **“Peter,”** she said, **“you’re receiving a call from Natasha Romanaff.”**

Peter almost fell off of his web-line when he heard that. “ _What?_ ” he said, freaking out a little. Why was she calling him? God, she was probably mad. 

**“Would you like to answer the call?”** Karen asked. 

“Yeah, answer it, Karen,” Peter said. He knew better than to ghost Black Widow. Peter mentally braced himself for a lecture but was surprised when Black Widow simply said, “How far are you from the Compound?”

Peter paused, confused. “W-well, I’m in Queens?”

She was silent for a moment, then said, “I’ll send Happy over to fetch you. Bring your suit.”

“Umm… okay?” Peter said hesitantly. 

“Okay. Hurry,” she said tersely, then hung up. 

Shit, what was going on? Maybe it was just another training exercise? He wasn’t really feeling up to training…

_The Hunt the Hunt the Hunt_

Peter shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Nobody else was hearing… drums or voices, so he must just be imagining things. Probably because he didn’t get enough sleep?

The cuts on his left arm tingled. _The Hunt begins the Hunt begins the Hunt begins…_

Peter sighed, then swung off to meet Happy. When he met up with him, the older man looked stressed and un-Happy. “What’s going on?” Peter asked.

"You’re going on a mission,” he simply replied, his voice gruff.

Peter jumped up in his seat. “What?” he cried, surprised. He hadn’t been on a single mission since… well, since Germany. “What? Why?” he asked.

Happy hesitated. “I’ll let Nat fill you in when we get there,” he said, and refused to say anything else.

Peter felt his anxiety growing. Something was wrong. What was going on?

As soon as they arrived at the Compound, Peter sprinted out and met with Natasha. “What’s happening?” he demanded. “Happy said we’re going on a mission?”

Natasha dragged him inside then crossed her arms. “We wouldn’t normally bring you but… it’s too risky for me to go alone and all the other Avengers- well, what’s left of them- are busy. Tony would be pissed if he found out but... we don't have a ton of other options. Here,” she said, thrusting a small device into Peter’s hands. The teleporter.

“It works?” he said, surprised.

Natasha nodded. “They’ve tested it, used people, yes, it works. But there’s still a mass limit of 250 pounds… not that it’ll concern you,” she said, looking critically at his slender figure. 

“Okay, okay, we’re teleporting, this is so _cool_ ,” Peter said, then flinched as the drums beat especially loud inside of his head.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha said.

“Nothing, sorry,” Peter said. “So, what’s the mission? What’s wrong? Why do I need the teleporter?”

Natasha tossed him a second device, and he gaped in surprise. “There’s two teleporters?” 

“Three, actually,” Natasha said. “Tony had time to make two more before he had to leave for some meeting in China, which is lucky for us.” She buckled her own device to her belt. “About two hours ago, the 13-year-old son of the President, Michael, was kidnapped. The evidence suggests that a Russian terrorist group kidnapped him, but SHIELD intel says that HYDRA laid a false trail to spark a war between the US and Russia. The kidnappers have demanded 4 billion for the safe return of the kid, but the US government refuses to negotiate with terrorists. Our job is to sneak in and bring the kid back.”

“Woah,” Peter said, and was about to ask questions when Natasha cut him off.

“No questions, we have to go,” she said. “We traced the message that HYDRA sent and found a location- a remote location in a forest in central Russia. The teleporters are calibrated for that position, and will bring us there. Once we arrive, the destination will change and will teleport us back to the Compound once we activate them. Your job,” she said, fixing her eyes on Peter, “is to sneak in and attach the teleporter to Michael and help him teleport back. I’ll distract the guards, then teleport back to the Compound. Clear?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, but hesitated. 

_The Hunt the Hunt the Hunt_

Something felt… off. 

“Let’s go, then,” Natasha said abruptly. She attached the teleporter to the spider-shaped emblem on Peter’s suit, and pressed the button in the middle. A blue glow surrounded Peter, followed by one of the _weirdest sensations_ that he’d ever experienced. 

A moment later, he found himself in a dark forest, under a cluster of trees. Peter stumbled slightly, then fell to his knees as the drumming suddenly intensified, cutting through his thoughts. His Spider-Sense was screaming, _something_ was wrong. He took deep, gasping breaths, trying to regain his senses and focus on the mission.

Natasha materialized next to him a moment later, completely composed. She looked at him, slightly worried, then kneeled next to him. “Spider-Man,” she hissed, “what’s wrong with you?”

Peter coughed. _Get it together, Parker. Don’t… screw the pooch, as Tony would say._ He took one more deep breath, then stood up. He had to get it together and focus on the mission.  
“N-no, I’m fine,” he said. 

Black Widow eyed him warily. “Well, good or not, now is not the time to have a breakdown. I’m sorry, malen'kiy pauk, I know you don’t feel prepared, but we have a mission and we have to complete it.”

Her stern words helped Peter focused. “Yes, I’m s-sorry. I’m ready.”

The two of them crept through the trees, halting as they saw a clearing filled with men. Peter froze.

“Those don’t look like HYDRA agents…” Natasha said, trailing off as she got a closer look at the men. They looked just like Stepanovich, Morozov, and Vladimir; tall, muscular, and shirtless, with knives hanging from their belts. 

“Shit,” Natasha swore. “We were wrong… this isn’t HYDRA…” she turned toward Peter. “HYDRA or not, the mission is the same. Let’s go.”

Peter nodded numbly, barely able to move and focus because of the pounding drums in his head. He followed Natasha, sneaking toward a cage on the edge of the clearing that held two figures, huddled together. 

When they got to the cage, Natasha leapt into action, knocking out several of the Russian men as silently as she could. Spider-Man sprinted forward and grabbed two bars on the cage, pulling them apart far enough for him to climb in. 

One of the trapped people, Michael, perked up when he saw the costumed hero. “Spider-Man!” he whispered hoarsely. “You’ve come to save us!”

“Yes, sir!” Spider-Man said, fake saluting toward the terrified boy. He then focused on the huddled figure next to Michael. A lanky teenager sat, huddled, next to Michael. He was breathing shallowly and didn’t respond when Spider-Man tapped his shoulder. 

“Who is this?” Peter asked.

 **“Damien Micheaux, 16-year-old son of the French President,”** Karen replied. **“He seems to be suffering from a severe concussion along with other mild injuries.”**

“Why-” Peter paused when the realization hit him. “ _Shit_ ,” he swore. Forget starting a war between the US and Russia… if the US started a war with France, the consequences would be terrible, as France and the US were close allies. He had to get both of these boys out of there, quickly. But… there was no way the three of them could use two teleporters, as they’d weigh too much.

Peter grimaced as the pounding in his head grew louder. He quickly attached one of the teleporters to Michael, then removed the teleporter from his costume and attached it to Damien. 

“Spider-Man, what are you doing?” Natasha’s voice interrupted Peter. He turned to face her, and saw her eyes widen as she realized the gravity of the situation and what Peter was doing. “No, Spider-Man, go, I’ll-” she began working furiously to remove her teleporter. 

Peter turned toward her, wincing as the pain in his head grew. “I’m sorry, Ms. Black Widow,” Peter said, as he extended his arm and shot a strand of webbing at the button on the device, hitting it perfectly and activating the teleporter.

Natasha’s voice grew louder and frantic as the device glowed blue. “Damn it, Spider-Ma…” her voice faded as she was transported away. Peter pressed the button on Michael’s device and then on Damiens, waving good-bye as they faded away. 

Ok, Parker. 

Deep breaths.

He was terrified.

He shook his head. _Keep it together, Parker._

Peter stood up and his heart sunk. He was completely surrounded by men. Well, this will be wonderful, the teenager thought. He braced himself, ignoring the terror that raced through his veins.

“Hey, everyone,” he said awkwardly. “So… I’ve been wondering… where can I get myself one of those stunningly sexy knife belts?”

The men stared back at him, silent. 

“O-okay, then,” Peter said. “I’ll just… leave then?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Peter cried out and fell to his knees. God, not again. The drums… pounding… he had to stand up… 

A pair of arms grabbed him roughly and dragged him to his feet. Peter cried out, striking out blindly and feeling a satisfying crunch as he hit his target. But Peter couldn’t run, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe… 

God, no, _please_ , somebody help him. 

_The Hunt the Hunt the Hunt the Hunt the Hunt…_

Peter couldn’t move, the fear paralyzed him, what was happening to him… 

“Bring the Spider,” he heard a voice say. “We’ll prepare him for the Hunt.”

Peter felt a sharp object jab his arm, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one isn't great- I wrote it pretty quickly. But next chapter is going to be much, much better! 
> 
> (get ready for the whump)


	5. A New Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter shivered as the cold wind cut through his suit. He could hear Kraven approaching, getting closer… and closer… and closer...
> 
> Forget being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
> 
> Peter Parker was stuck between a murderous hunter and the edge of the world.

_What’s going on?_

Peter groaned and rolled over. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his whole body ached. He forced his eyes open and slowly sat up, his head spinning. 

Where was he?

_The drums, the hunt, the-_

Oh, right.

“Karen, wha’s goin’ on?” Peter asked groggily. The drums weren’t as bad as they had been before; they were more of a constant annoyance than a head-splitting pounding. 

No answer.

“Karen?” 

Why did his costume feel different?

Peter looked down at his arms and yelped, jumping into the air. Holy shit- his costume felt different because it _was_ different. Instead of wearing his Stark-enhanced suit, he had on a thinner, simpler suit that seemed to be made out of a few layers of spandex. The basic design of the suit mimicked that of Mr. Stark’s suit, but it was far simpler. 

The body of his costume was red, as it was on his actual suit, but a darker shade of red- similar to the color of blood. The sides, pants, parts of the arms, and back of the suit were a muted blue, almost more grey than blue. The webbing design on the red parts of his suit was a dark silver and had been stitched onto the suit. 

The spider emblem on his chest was slightly larger and was also a dark silver. Even his web shooters were different- they were the same color as the spider emblem and slightly larger than his normal ones, but they still worked fine. Ish.

Ok, well, this was _really_ weird. Did the creepy men just knock him out so they could change him into a new, handmade suit? Oh God, who changed him? It better not have been Vladimir; that man was _creepy_. 

Peter took in his surroundings. He was sitting on the floor in a large room with tall, vaulted ceilings and a disturbing amount of animal heads mounted on the walls. A plush rug covered the floor, and leather chairs and couches were scattered throughout the room. 

Peter stood up unsteadily, stumbling a bit from the effects of being drugged. They hadn’t tied his wrists or ankles or anything, so there must be some level of security keeping him trapped inside the room. He was trying to formulate something that resembled an escape plan when a low voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“Welcome, Spider. What do you think of your new skin?” 

A muscular man stood in the doorway, the light filtering from behind him preventing Peter from seeing any of his features. 

Skin? Oh, God, please say it wasn’t _grafted_ onto him or something. A quick tug at his suit confirmed that (luckily) it was just a suit.

“Well, it’s quite tacky, in my opinion,” Peter responded snarkily in an attempt to hide his fear. He _knew_ this man. Something about him felt so… disturbingly familiar. He flinched as the man grew closer and the overwhelming fear grew stronger.

“Joke while you can, Spider.”

Peter squinted up at the figure. He was _very_ muscular and tall, towering over the teenager. He too was shirtless but wore an open jacket made out of… lion skin? Various knives and weapons dangled from his belt, blades gleaming in the light. 

“Why have you brought me here?” Peter demanded. “What, are you going to experiment on me? It gets old when people try and do that, just so you know.”

Kraven laughed, a deep, evil, throaty sound that echoed through the room. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. In ten minutes, we will release you from this room. In fifteen minutes, the final phase of the Hunt begins. And within a day, you will be dead, your head mounted on my wall and your body thrown into the nearest river. You see, Spider, you are the prey. You know I’m telling the truth- you’ve heard the drums of the Hunt calling to you.”

Peter felt his blood run cold, but he forced a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Crazy Hunter. But I _do_ know that, if it does come down to me against you, I don’t think that _I’m_ going to end up losing.” 

His false bravado made the Hunter smirk. “You know you’re lying, Spider. It’s just how the world works; I am Hunter, you are prey. It is your destiny to die at my hands. I am the world’s greatest Hunter, and you are one of the greatest prey.”

The Hunter walked toward the doorway. Peter remained still, frozen in shock. The large man turned back toward him before he exited the room. “I wish you luck, Spider. May you be the most exciting prey that I, Kraven, will ever get the chance to hunt.”

With that, the massive man exited the room, leaving the door open. Peter shot a web at the open doorway and wasn’t surprised when some kind of force field stopped the web from leaving the room. The teenager sighed and sat down.

Was this really how he was going to die? At the hands of some maniac Hunter?

No. He couldn’t do that to May, or Ned, or… well, he _thinks_ that Mr. Stark cares, so he’d probably be sad too. He would just have to survive. Outsmart the ‘World’s Greatest Hunter’ and hope that _someone_ would come and rescue him.

And get him out of this tacky suit. 

Ok. Ten minutes, what can he do in ten minutes…

Peter looked around the room, searching for materials to build something; maybe he could build something to broadcast a signal of his location. If Mr. Stark could build the Iron Man suit in a cave surrounded by terrorists, then maybe Peter could build something useful too.

Who was he kidding; he was no Tony Stark. Not that it mattered; the room was quite lacking in anything besides animal heads and fur skin rugs. Peter sighed and sat down. 

_Ok, then, let’s just make do with what I know I have,_ he thought. He tested his new web-shooters. They weren’t nearly as smooth as his own, but they’d have to do. Peter tested the strength and elasticity of the webbing and it seemed identical to that of his webbing… actually, when he looked at the web cartridges, Peter was pretty sure that it was his webbing, just in a different web-shooter.

Weird.

But really, not any weirder than anything else that was happening.

He was just about to do another search of the room when six of Kraven’s shirtless lackeys barged into the room. The marched up to Peter, who backed away, crouched in a defensive stance. The men just laughed, and one of them held up a gun.

“Either come with us willingly, Spider, or we knock you out and it will be that much easier for Kraven to kill you,” one of the men said. 

Peter hesitated, then relaxed slightly and allowed the men to grab him and drag him outside of the mansion. They laughed again, then threw him to the ground. “Run, little Spider,” one said. “In five minutes, Kraven will slaughter you.”

Peter sprang up, heart racing and drums beating in his head. He looked at the mansion again, then at the expanse of wilderness in front of him.

_How are you going to get yourself out of this one, Parker?_

He had five minutes. Did he stand more chance in an outright fight or should he try and hide? Peter hesitated, knowing the clock was ticking and he only had moments to survive. He had no idea what would happen if the tried to fight Kraven; he didn’t know his strengths, abilities, or anything. And if he was winning in front of Kraven’s minions, would they just kill him?

On the other hand, if he ran, he’d be putting Kraven right in his element as a hunter. But, if he ran, maybe he’d last long enough for the Avengers or SHIELD or somebody to find him. 

How long had it been? How long until Kraven was after him?

Peter made his decision and turned, sprinting toward the wilderness.

............

Sometimes, Natasha really hated her job. Sure, she didn’t love it when she was shot or stabbed or electrocuted, but that wasn’t the part that she hated the most. No, the parts she hated the most were leaving teammates behind. Sacrificing someone for the sake of the mission. Choosing between saving her friends and being exposed.

Damn it, Parker.

The second she got back to the Compound, Natasha thrusted the children next to her to the nearest SHIELD agents. She had to go back, she had to get Peter… 

“Agent Romanoff,” a voice behind her said. Natasha whirled around and stopped, face-to-face with Nick Fury. “Where’s the Spider kid?”

Natasha struggled to keep her emotions in check. “He gave his teleportation device to Micheaux, the son of the French president. He stayed behind and…” her voice wavered, “Webbed my device so I couldn’t stay instead of him.”

Nick Fury looked at her closely, eye narrowed. “And you’re planning on returning for him.” It wasn’t a question.

Natasha kept her gaze level, mimicking his cool stare. “Yes, Director Fury.”

Nick Fury folded his arms. “You can’t go back alone, Romanoff.” 

“Any why is that?”

“Well, from what we saw, there are at least 30 armed men surrounding Spider-Man. They didn’t seem that interested in stopping you and the kids from teleporting; it seems their main target was Spider-Man. And, in addition to that, I seriously doubt that they’re going to keep the kid in the same spot; they know we know how to get there, so they’re going to move him.”

Natasha ignored Nick Fury, trying to remove the stick webbing from the top of the teleporter. She was going to have to remove the webbing, which will take a few minutes, then reset the coordinates, then-

Fury snatched the teleporter from her grip. Natasha turned to face the director, looking as if she was preparing for a fight. 

“Give that back to me, Fury.”

Nick chuckled. “Natasha, I’m not going to let you go back by yourself.”

“Do I looked like I give a damn about what you’re going to let me do?” Natasha hissed.

“I’m not going to lose one of my best agents because she’s running into a rescue mission like a chicken with its head cut off,” Fury replied calmly. 

“I. Don’t. Give. A. Damn,” Natasha replied through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to just abandon the kid.”

“I never said you had to,” Fury countered. “But just wait a goddamn minute until we can get you a team.”

Natasha was on the verge of attacking Fury when she felt her phone buzz. Glaring at the director, she pulled out her phone and stalked away from Fury. She glanced at the caller ID and saw it was from Stark.

Shit.

Natasha sighed and answered the call. She braced herself for an angry explosion but instead was surprised with Tony’s cool, collected voice. 

“Would you like to tell me why the kid is in Russia and isn’t answering any of my calls? I swear to God, Romanoff, if you took him on a spider bonding trip without telling his Aunt she’s going to kill me.” An undertone of anger laced his words, revealing that Tony knew that something was wrong.

“Tony-” Natasha began, but was cut off.

“Nat, don’t even try. Where the hell is the kid?”

Natasha swallowed, closing her eyes. “He- we were sent on a rescue mission,” she whispered. “President’s son was kidnapped, we used the teleporters to get to the coordinates in Russia. Turns out they had kidnapped the son of the French President as well, and we didn’t have enough teleporters… Peter gave his to the other kid and stayed behind.”

Tony’s cold fury seeped through the phone. “ _And you left him?!?_ ” 

Natasha winced. “No, Tony, I tried-”

“You _tried_ , did you now? It really doesn’t sound like it, considering you _abandoned the kid in the middle of Russia, surrounded by men who are going to kill him!_ ”

“I’m not going to just abandon him,” Natasha snapped. “I’m going back for him, Tony.”

“ _You shouldn’t have left him in the first place!_ ”

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “You’re right, Tony. Now, are you going to help me rescue him, or keep on yelling at me?”

Tony signed. “I’m in Northern China, I’ll send you the coordinates of his suit and fly over. It’ll only take me a few minutes to get there, so hurry up. Let me know when you’re heading over.”

“Tony- there’s one more thing,” Natasha said.

“It better not be bad news, Nat,” Tony snapped.

“The men that have him… they were dressed just like Morozov and the first man who attacked Peter.”

Tony was silent.

“Tony-” Natasha said tentatively.

The billionaire cut her off. “So… what you’re trying to tell me is that the men who are holding him hostage are the same ones who’ve claimed that they were hunting him? The ones we didn’t take seriously? And you abandoned him there with them? _And you didn’t think to mention this before?_ ”

Natasha closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tony,” she whispered. 

“No, Romanoff, that doesn’t solve this!” Tony practically yelled. “What the _hell_ is wrong with SHIELD? What is wrong with _you_? You knew that this was going on and you left him to die!” 

“He’s not going to die,” Natasha said, firmly. “We’re going to… to rescue him.”

“Damn right, we are,” Tony snapped. “I’m sending you the coordinates of his suit. Get over there as soon as you can. I’ll meet you there.”

He hung up before Natasha could reply, and she put her phone away. She knew that he had the right to be angry; hell, _she_ was angry at herself. But she knew that arguing wasn’t going to help Peter. She stalked over to Fury, who had removed the webbing from her teleporter and was eyeing her warily.

Natasha held out her hand for the device. “Stark’s going,” she said roughly. “Looks like I’m not going alone. Give me the teleporter.”

Fury crossed his arms. “Not exactly the backup I had in mind.” 

“Well, who else?” Natasha spat. “Barton and Lang are on house arrest, Rogers and Wilson are on the run, Wanda and Vision are off the radar, T’Challa is in Wakanda, and Rhodey…” she hesitated out of sympathy. 

“I’m up to it, Natasha,” said a voice from behind her. Natasha whirled around to see Rhodey, in full War Machine armor, standing behind her. 

Natasha paused. “Are you sure, Rhodey?” she asked slowly. “You’ve only been in the suit twice since…”

Rhodey grinned. “You’ve only _seen_ me in the suit twice since my injury, Nat,” he replied warmly. “Tony called me and told me everything that happened. He was freaking out, Nat. I’m going to help my friend and the kid.”

He didn’t flinch away from Natasha’s gaze, so she nodded in approval. “Well, Fury,” she said, “is that enough backup for you?”

Fury tossed two teleporters to her in response, webbing removed from the first. “Make sure Stark keeps his shit together,” Fury warned. 

Natasha nodded her head in thanks, then turned toward Rhodey. “I’m going to run up to the lab and enter the coordinates,” Natasha said quickly. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

She left, and Rhodey fiddled with his suit, making sure that everything was ready. Nick’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Colonel Rhodes,” Fury said forcefully, and Rhodey looked up at him in surprise. “Agent Romanoff and Stark both are very invested in saving the kid. If things go south or you can’t save him, I _need_ you to keep a cool head and get the hell out of there. I’m not losing more agents.”

Rhodey frowned. “No promises, Fury. We’re finding the kid, no matter what.”

Fury raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure that’ll sound awfully noble in your epitaph.” 

Rhodey’s reply was cut off by Natasha’s arrival. She handed one teleporter to Rhodey, who stuck it on his suit, then attached one to her own suit. She also had a third teleporter, which she clipped to her belt. “It’s either for Stark or Spider-Man,” Natasha said, seeing Fury’s questioning look. 

“Coordinates are set, Rhodes,” Natasha said. She pressed the button and a blue glow surrounded her. 

“Let’s get that kid out of there.”

............

Peter had to get out of here.

He sprinted, racing toward the trees. How long had it been? How long did he have? His senses were hyper-alert, picking up every birdsong, every snapping twig, everything. He could still hear Kraven talking to his men, which means he wasn’t far enough. Peter just ran, tearing through the forest faster than he’d ever run before. 

His spider-sense went crazy all of a sudden, and Peter dove out of the way in the nick of time as a net whizzed by his head.

_What the hell?_

Kraven hadn’t even started yet; he must have set traps before the Hunt began. 

Great. 

Peter scrambled to his feet and continued to run, dodging a second net and something that looked suspiciously like… ninja stars? He heard something in the distance; light footsteps, expertly running through the forest. Kraven had begun his hunt.

Peter jumped as his spider-sense flared up, twisting midair to dodge a knife. Not Kraven, but another trap. He landed, but his spider-sense was still going crazy for some reason- why- 

The teenager took a step forward when the ground beneath him just disappeared, and suddenly he was falling. The pit was only eight or nine feet deep, but that actually was to Peter’s disadvantage; he didn’t have time to web onto anything to stop his fall and the drop took him by surprise. Peter cried out in pain as he landed awkwardly on his left leg, pain shooting through his ankle. 

“Ow, ow, ow, shit,” Peter cursed, as he unsteadily stood back up and attempted to put weight on his left ankle. It was badly sprained, at the very least, which was a big problem. Thinking fast, Peter wrapped webbing around his ankle as a makeshift brace, then quickly climbed out of the hole. Kraven was gaining on him, he could hear him getting closer, and his ankle would make it infinitely harder to run and dodge. 

Peter scrambled up a tree and hopped from tree to tree, getting more and more nervous as he heard Kraven nearing his location. _Ok, Parker, you can’t run and the creepy herculean hunter is catching up to you. Whatcha gonna do about it? _God, he wished he had Karen to help him. She’d know what to do.__

___If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it._ _ _

__Mr. Stark’s words echoed in his head, and Peter sighed. Kraven was getting closer and closer, following Peter’s trail. He was less than 200 feet away when Peter started to climb straight up one of the particularly tall trees, figuring that he’d have a slight advantage at greater heights._ _

__Shivering as he scrambled up the slippery bark, Peter glanced down to see Kraven approaching the tree he was climbing. The Hunter laughed. “Good try, Spider,” he said, then reached toward his belt and throwing a knife toward the panicked teenager._ _

__Peter’s spider-sense warned him and he jumped to the right, narrowly avoiding the knife. It embedded itself in the bark right next to him, quivering ominously._ _

__All of a sudden, Peter’s spider-sense _screamed_ but Peter was too slow to dodge. Time seemed to freeze as he felt an oddly warm sensation in his left thigh. Peter glanced down and was shocked to see a knife protruding from his leg, buried up to the hilt. _ _

___Oh God._ _ _

__It didn’t hurt (yet), so Peter climbed higher up the tree, using only his arms and his right leg. He sensed a third knife coming and threw his body to the other side of the tree, feeling the knife whizz by. He was soon too high up and too protected by branches for the Hunter to send knives at him._ _

__Peter sat down on a branch, letting himself sit for a moment. Shit, he really did have a knife buried in his left thigh. And it was starting to hurt. _A lot._ _ _

__God, he felt like vomiting. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just run around with a knife protruding from his leg; the hilt was long, maybe a foot long, and that would definitely hinder him. But he wasn’t supposed to take the knife out, right? Or he’d bleed out?_ _

__It was _really_ hurting now, and not the subtle, dull, you-can-forget-about-me type of pain, but a screaming HEY-YOU’VE-IMPALED type of pain. Blood was starting to seep around the blade’s handle, and Peter knew that he’d definitely bleed out if he took out the knife. _ _

__Instead, Peter gripped the top of the blade with one hand and the base of the handle with the other. He pulled as hard as he could, wincing as the blade cut into his fingers and crying out when he accidentally wiggled the knife too much. He was finally successful, and he managed to snap off most of the handle, so only a bit of metal was protruding from his leg. Blood was now trickling down his leg and dripping onto the tree, so Peter wrapped webs around his thigh in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding._ _

__Ok._ _

__Deep breaths, Parker._ _

__Peter unsteadily climbed higher up the tree until he was near the top. Kraven was still at the bottom… what was he doing? The Hunter had placed a… charge on the base of the tree? He was lighting the end…_ _

__Oh._ _

___Shit._ _ _

__Peter’s spider-sense flared as a dull _boom_ shook the tree, and the tree began to fall. Frantic, Peter scrambled to the edge of the branch and jumped to the next tree, shotting a web and grabbing onto it to avoid falling. His leg was screaming in pain, but he managed to haul himself up onto the tree and then swing to the next one. _ _

__Maybe he could avoid Kraven if he could stay far above him and out of his sight…_ _

__Peter twisted and aimed his web-shooters at Kraven. His first shot missed, but his second nailed him perfectly, gluing the Hunter to the ground. Kraven growled and struggled to free himself, and Peter jumped and swung between the trees, moving slower than he would have liked because of his now-useless left leg. Blood was starting to seep through his makeshift web-bandage so Peter had to wrap several additional layers of webbing around his thigh. Ouch._ _

___Thwip_ , swing, land. _Thwip_ , swing, land. Peter worked himself into a rhythm, blocking out the sharp pain, set on evading the Hunter. The drums had faded into a barely discernable beat in the back of his head; the Hunt was no longer just a looming threat. No, he was living the Hunt._ _

__And he was going to survive._ _

__

__............_ _

__Kraven grunted as the webbing enveloped his feet, gluing him to the ground. He fruitlessly attempted to pull off the webbing, but only succeeded in getting his hands stuck in the sticky substance._ _

__Clever Spider._ _

__Growling in frustration, the Hunter ripped a knife from his belt and tore through the webbing. The Spider was tricky, but the trickier the better. After a few minutes, Kraven was finally free from the webbing and the Spider had fled._ _

__Kraven paused, listening intently. He could sense the Spider’s fear and smell the sharp scent of blood; the Spider was injured and would leave a trail as the life bled out from him and he grew weaker and weaker._ _

__Perfect for the Hunter to finish him off._ _

__............_ _

__Natasha closed her eyes as she appeared in the same forest as before. She closed her eyes briefly, ignoring the odd lurching feeling in her stomach from using the teleportation device. Rhodey materialized next to her, stumbling slightly as he stepped forward._ _

__Natasha put a hand to her ear. “We’re here, Stark,” she said quietly._ _

__“I’ll be there in… twenty-five seconds,” Tony replied._ _

__Natasha turned to Rhodey and signaled for him to keep quiet. The two of them stealthily crept from the cover of the trees, braced for a fight. However, the clearing was empty when they arrived._ _

__Tony touched down next to Rhodey and turned toward his friend. “They’re gone,” Tony said bitterly. “They’re gone and they’ve taken Peter with them.” Natasha and Rhodey could hear Tony’s quick, shallow breaths._ _

__Rhodey placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We’ll find him, Tones,” he said calmly. “But you have to stay with us and stay as calm as you can. The kid needs you to do that.”_ _

__“How the hell am I supposed to stay calm?” Tony spat. “They’re going to kill him, Rhodey. I should’ve protected him, taught him more, maybe if I had… he wouldn’t be in this situation.” Tony’s voice cracked, full of anguish._ _

__Natasha had wandered away from the group, looking for clues. She walked around where the cages had been, then narrowed her eyes as she saw a huddled figure in the distance._ _

__“Hey- guys!” she called to them as she ran over to the figure._ _

__When she saw what was huddled on the ground, Natasha froze suddenly, her face pale. Oh, God…_ _

__Tony and Rhodey were walking over to her. Natasha weakly held her hands out to stop them, but they came anyway. Tony took one look at the sight in front of him and stopped, his face going green. Rhodey reached toward his friend._ _

__“Tony, Tony, it’s not actually him, look…”_ _

__Rhodey’s pleas trailed off as Tony staggered a few away from them and vomited on the ground. Rhodey rushed over to his friend and grabbed him as he stood up. Tony’s haunted eyes met Rhodey’s for a moment before the billionaire passed out._ _

__Feeling like vomiting herself, Natasha warily inspected the gruesome figure in front of her. The headless corpse, dressed in the Spider-Man costume that Tony had made, was lying in a puddle of blood. The body was clearly that of a female, so it wasn’t Peter, but… Natasha shuddered. The men who took Peter clearly left this as a message, and the gruesome corpse indicated that they weren’t above any level of cruelty._ _

__Natasha sighed, then backed away from the body, trying to escape the stench of blood that filled the air. SHIELD was going to have to send someone over to fetch the body and identify whoever it was. The Black Widow looked over at Rhodey, who had caught Tony as he passed out. The horrified look on Rhodey’s face mirrored what Natasha was feeling, and she struggled to keep her emotions in check._ _

__To hell with that._ _

__White-hot fury raced through her body as she thought of Peter, sweet, innocent, Peter. He was probably terrified, hurt, or… worse. Natasha vowed that she was going to scour the forests for any sign of Peter. She was going to find whoever took him and _kill_ them._ _

__And _nobody_ would be able to stop her._ _

__............_ _

__

__A few miles away, Peter raced through the trees, desperation and fear running through his veins. It was getting harder and harder for him as the trees began to thin out and he grew weaker from blood loss. He could hear a faint rushing sound that was growing louder as he continued through the trees._ _

__He jumped and swung, when suddenly the branch that his web was attached to snapped with a loud crack. Peter fell, the ground rushing up to meet him. He twisted and fired a web, hoping and praying that it would attach to _something_. It did, but he still landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Peter groaned and rolled onto his side, crying out quietly as he put pressure on his wound. _ _

__Something was… off. The trees had ended quite suddenly, and the rushing noise was louder than ever. Confused and slightly concussed, Peter narrowed his eyes in confusion as he crawled forward._ _

__In front of him, the ground suddenly cut off, as if a great beast had cut the earth in half and pulled the two pieces apart. Far, far below ran a deep river, rushing and whispering, strong enough to carry trees at a breathtaking pace. Peter shivered as the cold wind cut through his suit. He could hear Kraven approaching, getting closer… and closer… and closer..._ _

__Forget being stuck between a rock and a hard place._ _

__Peter Parker was stuck between a murderous hunter and the edge of the world._ _


	6. The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The soft _riiiiiiiip_ sound of Kraven’s knife through his webbing caused Peter to whirl around. The Hunter was struggling a bit as he made his way through the layers of Peter’s webbing, but he was making alarmingly rapid progress.
> 
> Peter narrowed his eyes. 
> 
> This was it. Peter had no tech besides his web-shooters, no help, no mentor to guide him, and a useless leg.
> 
> So what?
> 
> None of that mattered, because, suit or not, he is _Spider-Man_. 
> 
> And he was going to kick Kraven’s ass or go down fighting.

Natasha paced back and forth outside of Tony’s room, waiting for the billionaire to wake up. He’d passed out once they discovered the headless corpse because of a combination of exhaustion, stress, and high blood pressure. Tony had been fitfully dozing for the past 45 minutes, which was enough time for Natasha to identify the body and do a bit more digging. 

Sounds from inside Tony’s room interrupted Natasha’s thoughts. The billionaire wrenched his door open, trembling as he gripped the door frame. “Nat,” he rasped, a haunted look in his eyes.

Natasha rushed forward to support her friend. “Tones, he’s alive,” she said softly. “He’s alive, that wasn’t him in the suit.”

Tony blinked, his haunted eyes wide as if he couldn’t see or understand Natasha. “He’s dead, Nat,” he said slowly.

Natasha shook her head. “Tony. He’s _alive_ ,” she repeated. “The person in the suit was someone else.”

Tony put his head in his hands. “He’s alive,” he whispered. The billionaire shook his head. “Who was in the suit?” he asked.

“A hero named Tigra,” Natasha replied. “We found footage of a man named Sergei Kravinoff hunting and killing her,” she continued. 

“Kravinoff,” Tony muttered. He looked up at Natasha, the life returning into his eyes. “What can we find about him?”

“Ahead of you on that one,” Natasha replied. “We managed to locate his house… in Volgograd, Russia.”

“Volgograd…” Tony mused. “That’s where the first man that attacked Peter was from, right?”

Natasha nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “Which means that we should look for Peter around there. It’s our first real lead.”

Tony sighed, then looked at Natasha pleadingly. “Nat…” he began, “I can’t lose him. I _can’t_.”

“I know,” Natasha said. “We’re going to find him, Tony. We’ll get Rhodey and we can start combing the forest around Kravinoff’s house.” She looked her friend in the eye. “ _We’re going to find him_ ,” she repeated fiercely. “I swear, Tony, I won’t rest until he’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Tony said quietly. He stood still for a moment, then smashed his fist against the door in anger. “ _Damn it_ ,” he yelled. “If Fury hadn’t taken the kid, if _you_ didn’t take him, Nat, _goddamit_...” He trailed off, then sighed again. “I know it’s not your fault, Nat, but he’s just a kid… he shouldn’t have to deal with this…”

“No, you’re right,” Natasha said quietly. “I should’ve stopped Fury from taking Peter. I should’ve realized the connection, I should’ve known that they were targeting him… I’m sorry, Tony.”

The distraught billionaire was silent for a moment before clearing his throat. “Let’s just- let’s just get him. I don’t want him to miss another movie night,” he mumbled before he walked away, Natasha sadly watching him for a moment before following. 

They had to find Peter soon, or Tony was going to crumble to pieces. 

.........

Peter peered down at the deep crevice to his right. The surface of the rock looked slippery and the raging rapids below certainly didn’t give him any more incentive to risk the climb down. To make matters worse, his left leg was practically useless; his sprained ankle and the knife embedded in his thigh made it impossible to put any weight on that leg. 

He could hear Kraven approaching quickly. Peter’s heart raced as the Hunter neared his location. Should he fight? Or just keep running? If he ran… maybe, _maybe_ Mr. Stark would find him, but he didn’t have his suit, so it seemed unlikely. 

Kraven was getting closer and closer… Peter had to make a decision. Maybe it _was_ a better idea to fight the Hunter. But… Peter glanced at the cliff to his right as an idea began to form in his head. Maybe he’d take a leaf out of Kraven’s book. Set traps, fight him somewhere where Peter had an advantage.

His mind set on his decision, Peter took a deep breath as he hobbled to the edge of the cliff and started to climb down. 

The teenager shivered slightly as the spray from the raging river dusted his suit. He took a deep breath. _Okay, Parker, think. In order to beat the hunter… I must fight as he fights? Or something like that, anyways._

As if _that_ was going to help him. Peter sighed. Kraven was seconds away. But… wait. There! Peter spotted a fairly large crevice in the cliff face. He crawled into it and covered the opening with layers of webs. Hopefully that would be enough to slow Kraven down… and hopefully he didn’t just corner himself.

Peter shivered again as his enhanced senses detected several creatures skittering in the side of his vision. He was limping into the cave as quickly as he could when a triumphant growl caught his attention.

“Ah, Spider, Spider, Spider,” Kraven said teasingly. “You’re desperate, you’re trapped, and… I’m ready.”

_Trapped?_

Peter cursed, then hobbled forward quickly toward the back of the cave. It was so big… maybe it wasn’t a dead end?

But deep down, Peter knew Kraven was telling the truth. This wasn’t some psychological test, or merely the hunter teasing his prey. No, Kraven was right. This was the end. Kraven was now bringing him to face the fact that it was time for Peter to face the Hunter.

Man to man.

Or, well… Spider to weird-Russian-man-dressed-in-a-fur-coat.

Peter shot several strands of web toward the darkness, and they remained taut as they connected to the back wall of the cave, confirming his suspicions. 

The soft _riiiiiiiip_ sound of Kraven’s knife through his webbing caused Peter to whirl around. The Hunter was struggling a bit as he made his way through the layers of Peter’s webbing, but he was making alarmingly rapid progress.

Peter narrowed his eyes. 

This was it. Peter had no tech besides his web-shooters, no help, no mentor to guide him, and a useless leg.

So what?

None of that mattered, because, suit or not, he is _Spider-Man_. 

And he was going to kick Kraven’s ass or go down fighting.  
.........

Natasha, Tony, and Rhodey scoured the forest around Kraven’s mansion. They had already taken several people hostage and had learned a decent amount of information, most of which they had already assumed.

It was still sickening to hear it confirmed. 

From what they gathered in a brief ten minutes, Kraven was currently hunting Peter.

 _Hunting_ him. 

Tony could only imagine how terrified Peter was. 

“Tony,” Natasha said quietly, “I think I’ve found something.” 

Tony flew over to her, grunting a little as he maneuvered through the thick forest. “What did you find?” he asked roughly.

“Two things. First,” she pointed to the ground ahead of them, “a trap.” 

Tony peered into the deep pit and sighed.

“Second,” Natasha said, hesitating slightly, “I found some blood. I think it’s Peter’s blood.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat. “Show me,” he demanded. 

She led him over to a tall tree, and Tony could barely detect a glimmer of dark liquid near the top of the tree. He flew up and took a small sample, ordering FRIDAY to scan it.

 **”Boss, it appears that this indeed is Peter’s blood,”** his AI confirmed.

“That freaking son of a-”

“Tony,” Natasha cautioned, “breathe. There isn’t enough blood here to indicate that a dangerous amount of it has been lost. If anything, it means that he’s left a trail for us to follow.”

The billionaire laughed bitterly. “Great, thanks, Nat,” he snapped. “I’m sure Kravinoff did the exact same thing. He’s probably… Peter’s probably already-” his breath caught in his throat. _Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Avenger, Iron Man… none of those stupid titles matter if I can’t even protect the… no,_ my _kid._

“Don’t you dare suggest that he is dead,” Natasha hissed. “Trust me, he’s tougher than that. I’m ashamed that you’re already giving up on him.”

Tony spun to face his teammate. “Giving up on him?” he asked incredulously. “I’m not- I’d _never_ give up on him!” he spat.

Natasha’s gaze remained cool, her tone firm. “By assuming he’s dead, you’re giving up on him, Tony. Don’t try and argue,” she said, cutting the billionaire off. “You know it’s true. Believe what you want, Tony. But I don’t doubt his abilities and I _know_ that he’s still alive.”

The man looked at the ground wearily, then ran a shaking hand across his face. “You’re right,” he said, his voice cracking. “He’s alive. Now… let’s find the kid.” Tony hesitated. “And… thanks, Nat.”

“Don’t mention it,” the assassin answered, a hint of warmth creeping into her tone. Then she narrowed her eyes and her voice became hard. “Time to find that kid and take care of that damn hunter.”

.........

“Ah, Spider, Spider, Spider,” Kraven growled tauntingly. “This is it. The end of the hunt. My, what an exciting one it has been.”

“Exciting?” Peter repeated, his tone mock-incredulous. “You do realize that it’s barely been what, an hour? Maybe two? Most of which has been you running through the forest?”

Kraven laughed. “Only you could put it like that, Spider. You’ve always been a witty one, haven’t you. Only a desperate attempt to mask your fear,” the Hunter mused. “But I can smell it. I know you are terrified. I can practically taste the paralyzing fear racing through your body. You know that you are about to be slaughtered by the predator-”

“Yes, yes, quite interesting,” Peter interrupted. “Slightly disgusting- seriously, dude, tasting the fear in my body? That’s making me think you’re gonna eat me, which is… disturbing, to say the least. Anyways, guess what!”

Kraven paused. “What?” he asked, confused.

“Chicken butt!” Peter called, then shot a web and used the momentum of that and his one good leg to flip around Kraven. The Hunter sputtered and growled, his mood darkening in annoyance.

“I can’t believe you fell for that one,” Peter said. “Honestly… I’m shocked. A bit disappointed too, to be honest. C’mon, man, that’s like a first-grade level joke!”

The Hunter threw a dagger at Peter, but the teenager, full of confidence and adrenaline, dodged it easily. 

“Whoops, you missed! Missed again!” Peter taunted.

Kraven growled. “Joke all you want, Spider. It’ll just make it even more satisfying to kill you.” He then laughed, to Peter’s surprise. “Ah, what a fine hunt this is! Your resistance is pointless but greatly appreciated, Spider.”

“Pointless, huh?” Peter asked as he dodged Kraven’s punch and then landed one of his own on the Hunter.

Kraven grunted. “Yes, pointless,” he said. “For I have never failed to complete a hunt.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Peter said conversationally. “There’s a first time for everything, amigo.” He thought for a minute. “Um, how do you say friend in Russian?”

“It’s time-” Kraven swung and missed “-for you-” Peter landed a punch on the Hunter “-to shut up, Spid-”. The Hunter’s sentence ended with a wheeze as Peter used his strength to hurl a stone into his stomach. 

“What was that? I couldn’t quite understand you,” Peter asked with false innocence. “Of course, it might’ve been your accent. It’s quite thick, I gotta tell you. You really overdid the whole evil-Russian-villian stereotype, huh?”

“Enough!” Kraven hissed, finally snatching Peter and slamming him to the ground. The teenager let out a small squeak of pain as something in his chest snapped and his head collided painfully with the ground. The Hunter kicked Peter then grabbed the boy by his neck.

“It’s been a great hunt, Spider,” Kraven hissed as Peter struggled to breathe. “But… your time has ended.” He drew a dagger and, with each word, slowly plunged it into Peter’s stomach. Kraven grinned in satisfaction as Peter screamed in pain, the dagger having scraped the boy’s ribs. 

Kraven drew a second dagger. “Poor Spider,” he taunted. “No mentor to save you, no suit to help you. Sadly for you,” he said, inhaling the scent of Peter’s blood, “this next dagger goes in your heart.”

“Y-you’re right,” Peter gasped. “M-my mentor _isn’t_ here, and I don’t have my suit. B-but guess what,” he said, clenching his jaw in pain. “ _I don’t need them to save me_.”

He used the last of his strength and kicked the Hunter in a rather sensitive spot. The larger man let out a quite high-pitched squeal of pain, and Peter slid under the man and jabbed the back of his knees. Stunned, Kraven fell to one knee, and Peter jumped up and wrapped an arm around the Hunter’s throat as he webbed Kraven’s feet to the floor. As Kraven roared in anger, Peter flipped around the man and webbed him even more securely to the floor, snatching Kraven’s knives as he did so. 

Their fight had brought them to the edge of the cave, and Peter could detect a faint… whirring sound?

Kraven twisted and attempted to break free from the webs, but his legs were stuck. However, his arms were still free, and he managed to throw Peter to the ground. Right as he struck the floor of the cave, Peter twisted and finally managed to web Kraven’s arms together, completely immobilizing the man.

But he was too close to the edge. Peter barely had a moment to think, _I beat him! By myself!_ before his head hit the ground and he slid off of the edge, dropping toward the river. Disoriented and weak from blood loss, he was only able to draw in a quick breath before he hit the water and everything went dark.

.........

“I think I found him!” Tony yelled, flying toward the gorge. His scans had detected two figures in a cave on the side of the cliff, and it had to be Peter and Sergei.

But as Tony reached the cliff, he saw a limp red figure fall and hit the raging rapids.

He didn’t resurface.

“No!” Tony cried. “No, no, dammit-” he dove down, searching for Peter. 

But he couldn’t find him.

Black Widow and War Machine arrived and immediately grasped the situation. “I’ll go deal with Kravinoff,” Natasha said. “Tony, Rhodey, fly upriver and scan for Peter. _Quickly_. If he’s unconscious and we don’t find him soon… he’s going to drown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Only one more chapter (probably), let me know what you think! Comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Hope everyone is staying safe!


	7. In My Arms

Tony boosted quickly through the ravine, continuously scanning the raging rapids. “FRIDAY? Anything?” he asked desperately.

**“Unfortunately, I have not detected Peter’s body,”** the AI responded calmly.  **“However, based on the speed on the river and the approximate time he has been in the water, I’d suggest heading another half mile upriver to intercept him. I believe that Colonel Rhodes is already-”**

“I don’t care where Rhodey is,” Tony snapped. “I w- I  _ have _ to be the one who finds him.”

The billionaire turned and flew towards the interception point without another word. 

……………...

Natasha crept through the cave, halting as she spotted the webbed-up mess of a supervillain. 

“Kravinoff,” Natasha stated coldly as she took in the muscular, shirtless man. 

“Romanoff,” Kraven snarled in return. At Natasha’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “You must not remember me. Bel-”

“I don’t care,” the assassin cut him off. She stalked toward the Hunter, alight with barely contained anger. She smirked as she took in Kraven’s bloodied face and his fruitless struggles to escape the webs. “Looks like the Hunter got beaten by his own prey.”

Kraven paused, thoughtful. “Yes,” he agreed slowly, the pride not completely drained from his face. “I underestimated the Spider. He was stronger than I believed. Finally, a worthy foe for the Hunter!”

With that, he started to laugh, a deep, throaty sound. He laughed and laughed, cackling uncontrollably. 

Natasha just stared at him for a moment, then a hint of anger flashed across her face. Without uttering a sound, she grabbed one of her Widow Bites and tased him. The villain let out a squeak of surprise before twitching violently and passing out. 

“That’s for messing with Peter,” she hissed as she aggressively tied him up and dragged him toward the entrance of the cave. 

……………...

**“I’ve located Peter,”** FRIDAY announced, then directed Tony to him. 

Tony’s heart raced as he spotted the limp figure and he quickly dove down, snatching Peter from the water. “I’ve got him!” Tony yelled as he placed Peter on the ground. The boy wasn’t moving.

“No, no, Peter, no,” Tony said frantically. Was he breathing? “FRIDAY, is he breathing?” The billionaire grabbed Peter’s mask- what was this hideous suit?- and raised it above his nose. The teenager’s lips were blue and his skin was pale. “Scan him, FRIDAY!” Tony commanded.

At that moment, Peter’s body convulsed and he retched violently, expelling mouthfuls of water from his body. He did so another couple times before he stilled, coughing and shuddering.

“You’re okay, Peter, you’re okay,” Tony said as he grabbed the boy. 

“M-Mr. Stark?” Peter rasped, then shook his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I’m here, buddy,” the older man said. “Not like you needed any help,” he added, trying to lighten the situation and ignore the churning mass of feelings that were running through his body. “Natasha said you had the whole situation under control. She even sounded impressed-”

“-no way I impressed Black Widow!” Peter managed before coughing again.

Tony grabbed the teenager’s shoulders to help keep him upright. “Yeah, you did,” he said softly. “You impressed me, too, kid.”

Peter was quiet for a moment before looking up at his idol. “I did?” he squeaked softly. “B-but I didn’t tell you about- and I got captured and-”

“That wasn’t your fault, Peter,” Tony assured. He swept the kid up into a gentle embrace. “Thank God you’re safe,” he breathed.

Peter cautiously leaned into the hug, his head drooped with exhaustion. “I’m kinda tired,” he mumbled softly before passing out. 

“Shit, shit, FRIDAY, scan!” Tony demanded.

**“Nothing life-threatening at the moment, although the stab wound and severe sprain in his left leg both need medical attention, as do the various cuts along his body,”** the AI responded.  **“However, I believe he just passed out because of exhaustion and mainly needs food and rest.”**

Tony gently scooped up Peter and slowly flew to where Natasha and Rhodey were waiting, guarding Kraven. The billionaire’s eyes darkened as he saw the man, and he started toward him. “That little-”

“-Tony, stop,” Rhodey said, grabbing on to his best friend’s arm. “Our first priority right now is taking care of Peter.”

Oh. Right. Tony looked down at the shivering form, who woke up just to mutter “and please get this god-awful suit off of me. I have a reputation to uphold,” before passing out again. 

Natasha let out a little relieved laugh as she pinned the teleporter onto Peter. “Good work, malen'kiy pauk,” she whispered to the sleeping boy. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

……………...

  
  


_ Beep. Beep. Beep.  _

Awareness came slowly. First he heard a faint beeping, then he felt soft sheets and a comfortable pillow. After that came the smells of disinfectants and… motor oil?

Peter forced his eyes open, slowly focusing on the (blessedly) dark room around him. To his right sat a figure who was doing something on a tablet of some sort. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter rasped, coughing as it tickled his throat.

The man looked up and dropped the tablet. “Peter! How are you feeling?” Tony asked anxiously.

“I’m good,” the teenager replied. All things considered, it was quite true. He was feeling better rested than he had in days, the constant pounding had left his head, and his leg was no longer throbbing. 

“Good, good,” the billionaire replied distractedly. “Look, uh, kid, I’m sorry that all of this happened-”

“Not your fault,” Peter replied easily. He slowly eased up into a sitting position with Tony’s help. “It’s only that creepo Kraven’s fault, Mr. Stark,” he continued. “All you did was save me. I would’ve drowned if you weren’t there,” Peter finished gravely. 

Tony felt his breath catch in his throat. “Well, I’m just glad you’re safe,” he forced out. The two of them sat there in silence for a moment more before the billionaire spoke up again. “Cho says you’re healing quite nicely,” Tony said, then added, “she said you’ll be in perfect shape again in three or so days. And,” he grimaced, “Natasha says that you’d better be training with her again in four.”

Peter lit up like a Christmas tree. “She still wants to train me?! I can’t believe it!” He started raving (as usual) about how fantastic Natasha was.

Tony smiled, watching the kid- his kid?- ramble on and on. Peter safe. Sure, his body was going to need some time to recover, and his mind will need even more, but he was safe. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this marks the completion of my first AO3 fic! Thank you so, so much to everyone who read, left a kudos, or commented!
> 
> I have to admit, I was seriously considering deleting or orphaning this fic. I just wasn't very proud of it, and I got _so close_ to doing so. But then I stopped and read everyone's comments and they made me so happy that I decided to just finish. So once again, thank you SO MUCH!
> 
> If any of you guys like my work, please check out my other fic (5 Times Peter Went to Extremes to Keep His Identity Hidden)! It's a really fun one, I really (think? hope?) that you would enjoy it. Once I finish that, I'll be starting two new fics- one of them will be the second fic in the 5 Times Peter... series, and I was thinking I could start a fic where I write Peter Parker oneshot requests. So if anyone has any ideas or requests for me to start with, I'd love to hear them :)
> 
> Thanks again!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> And if anyone is interested in doing art for the fic, come scream at me on tumblr (marveloustimes20) :)


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